


Nor Hell a Fury

by TozaBoma



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Chloe Decker just wants to work, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, M/M, Pansexual Lucifer, you can choose your friends but you can't choose your family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 14:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8893411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TozaBoma/pseuds/TozaBoma
Summary: An intriguing case for Chloe Decker is Lucifer's idea of boredom - until the string of apparently random killings includes Lux. But are the killings really random? And is the perpetrator even human? Rated Teen and Up for some shooting, some fire, an emu, some friendship and hurt/comfort, our favourite pansexual Devil, and some good old-fashioned vengeance. Case fic.





	1. The Good Samaritan

 

 

 

“So tell me… what’s your deepest, _darkest_ , most _delicious_ desire?” Lucifer’s eyes shone in a way that should not have been possible in the gloom of the alleyway. Bricks listened over his left shoulder, a metal fire escape leant in not far behind him, and the rank, wet-fish stink swirled around his impeccable shoes.

“I want…”

“Yes?” he oiled. “Come on, you can tell me. I _promise_ I won’t tell _anyone_.”

“Well…”

The Devil’s eyes narrowed, his smile widened, and his lips opened to mirror the answer about to escape from the mouth of his object of attention.

“I want… a Woody.”

Lucifer’s face fell faster than spaghetti from a tilted plate. He straightened up from his interested lean. “Is that all? Blimey - not much imagination, have you?” he complained. “You’re way too small for things like that, anyway. Don’t you want to be rich or something?”

The small boy blinked up at him. “No. I want a Woody. Everyone wants a Buzz, but I want a Woody. Mom says they’re worth a lot of money.” He put a hand out and grabbed Lucifer’s from his trouser pocket. “Will you help me?”

“I most certainly will not,” he said, recoiling in horror from the child’s touch. “What do you think I am? Some pervy human?”

“What are you doing to the poor boy?” Decker sighed from behind him. “You were supposed to be preventing him from viewing the crime scene, not terrorising him.”

He whirled on the spot. “I can assure you this miniature sex-fiend is quite beyond anything I could do to him.” He turned back to the boy. “Honestly. Eight years old and already trawling for a shag. There’s something really wrong with this city.”

Decker just blinked, deciding not asking was the better part of sanity. “The deceased at the other end of the alley has been identified by his driving licence: Nathan King, thirty-two, living in Glendale. The other guy, Michael Beck, is going to have to answer a whole load of questions.”

“Wonderful,” Lucifer said with complete and utter disappointment. “Do you have anything juicer than ‘he did it’?”

Decker walked around him to crouch in front of the boy. “Hey. I’m Chloe.” She pulled her police badge from her belt and showed it to him. “You’re Martin, right? Martin Boemicky?”

“Yeah,” he said, suddenly blinking rather shyly. “Will you help me?”

“She prefers older men,” Lucifer said, putting his hands in his pockets. He turned away to survey the alleyway. Uniformed and plain-clothes police were busy decorating the far end of it in ‘Do Not Cross’ tape, others in bulky rainproof jackets were picking up tiny things in equally tiny tweezers and trapping them in plastic bags. Bored, Lucifer looked up at the dim sky far above them. Something small and wet slapped him in the eye. “Thanks Dad,” he tutted, wiping the first few drop of rain from his face. He edged to his right, delicately avoiding the fire escape to be under the slim shelter of the accompanying awning.

Martin put a hand up to Decker’s arm. “Can I see Grandma now?” he said. “The lady said I could.”

“The lady?” Decker asked. “What lady?”

“She said we were going to see Grandma,” Martin said.

“Martin… do you mean there was someone else here?” Decker asked.

“Yeah - the lady who got me from school. I’m not allowed to leave on my own. We were on the way to see Grandma when she stopped and spoke to the two men. But when the short man fell down she disappeared.”

“What did she do, fly away?” Lucifer asked, shrugging into his suit jacket to try to avoid the soft patter of drizzle. The rain, for its part, recognised him for what he was and kept a cautious few inches from his nose.

“Yeah,” Martin said. “She had huge wings.”

Lucifer frowned at him so hard it was a wonder the boy’s hair didn’t catch fire. Decker put her hand on Martin’s shoulder as she straightened up. “Ok, let’s get you home.”

“Flew, indeed,” Lucifer snorted. “And I suppose the wings were big, white and fluffy.”

Martin looked up at Decker. “Black. They were really black.”

Decker nodded slowly. “Uh-huh. Why don’t you get in the police car and we’ll take you home. Would you like that? Would you like a ride?”

“Oh _please_ , don’t encourage the little perv,” Lucifer tutted.

Decker looked at him. “What is your problem?”

“Oh, nothing at all. It’s perfectly normal for eight-year-old boys to ask for my help getting a boner in a back alley,” he scoffed.

“Not a Boney, a Woody,” Martin said. He looked up at Decker. “Or maybe a Jessie.”

Decker grinned suddenly. “Oh a _Woody_. I could probably give you one.”

“Detective!” Lucifer spluttered in outrage.

She grinned at him, then patted Martin’s shoulder. “Come on out of the rain, Martin. Let’s see if I can’t help you get a Woody on the way home.” She turned him around and walked him away, much to Lucifer’s apparent disgust.

“You stagger me, Detective!” he called after her.

“Get in the car, Lucifer!” she called over her shoulder.

He huffed, straightened his jacket, and then slid out from under the minimal shelter. He followed the two of them to her car, whereupon he was in the front passenger seat before she had managed to get a seatbelt around Martin in the back.

She got into the driver’s seat and pulled the door shut. Scraping wet hair from her cheek, something caught her eye and made her look at Lucifer. “How did you not get wet?”

His eyes broadcast unadulterated disbelief. “Have you heard the one about the Devil being able to escape through cracks?” he asked. “Between the raindrops is almost the same, but in reverse.”

She rolled her eyes and started the car as she looked in her rear-view mirror. “You ready?” she smiled at the small boy.

“Yeah,” Martin said. He stared out of the window as the car pulled away.

They managed three blocks in the dingy drizzle before Decker cleared her throat. “So Martin - you said there was a woman with you before you saw the two men in the alley.”

“Uh-huh.”

“How did you know this lady? Did you know the men?” she asked.

“No,” he said faintly. “We were just walking. She said I couldn’t be late. She was real nice.”

Decker looked up at the mirror again. “Martin - about the wings.”

“Yeah?”

“You said they were black.”

“Yeah,” Martin shrugged.

“How black?” Lucifer put in. He squirmed around to look between the seats at him. “Like darker-than-Trump’s-soul black, or new-Cadillac black?”

“Uh… I don’t know what that means,” Martin said. “Not dark-like-brand-new-Crayola black but darker-than-my-school-shoes black,” Martin said.

“I don’t know what that means,” Lucifer said testily, his eyebrows rammed down toward his nose in patent disapproval.

Decker glanced up at the boy in the mirror. “That’s fine, Martin - I know what you mean. So were they painted on her jacket maybe? Or like hanging from round her neck - like a scarf?”

Lucifer looked across the front seats at her - just looked. She ignored him admirably.

“No - they musta been under her coat, because I didn’t see them until she flew away,” Martin said. “She flew real fast. Like a jet plane.”

Lucifer turned back round to watch the goings-on beyond the front windscreen. “I think the imaginative little spawn has seen too many cartoons.”

Decker drove, Martin stared out of his window, and Lucifer dug into his pocket to retrieve a cell phone. His thumb went to the buttons and Decker spent the next half hour politely ignoring the dirty chuckles he emitted whilst reading what she hoped were text messages.

Finally they turned down a prim and proper boulevard, and she pulled the car up at a modest house. A long path wended its way through lush green grass and pretty, bright flowers.

Decker got out - ignoring Lucifer’s continuing snorts of amusement. “Come on Martin, let’s go.” She opened up the back door and helped him out of his seatbelt, before taking his hand and walking him up to the door. She knocked loudly.

“Minute!” came a shout from inside.

Finally the door opened and a woman looked out. “Oh.” She looked down. “Martin! What are you doing out of school?”

“Mrs Boemicky?” Decker asked.

“Yes - I’m Fran Boemicky,” she said. “Who are you?”

“I’m Detective Chloe Decker from the LAPD - Martin’s ok but something happened this afternoon and he may have seen it. Can I come in and speak to him with you?”

Fran took a step back. “What? Martin, how did you get out of school by yourself?” She put her hand out. Martin took it faithfully and hopped in over the front step. She dropped to one knee and hugged him hard. “Now why is this police officer bringing you home?” she demanded, pulling him back to see him. She smoothed her hands over his cheeks, holding him still. “Tell me what happened.”

“A lady came to talk to me,” he said with a smile. “She was really nice. She said I could go with her to see Grandma and then I could have a Woody.”

Fran wiped a hand over his cheek sadly. “Oh honey. You know you can’t get in to see Grandma without me.”

“But the lady said I could,” he said, the first flush of upset in his voice. “She said she came to class to get me so we could go!”

“We’ll go tonight, ok? You and me,” Fran said. “First I have to call the school and find out how in the world they let you out of class with some stranger.”

“Excuse me. This lady - do you know who he could be talking about?” Decker asked. “A relative, maybe?”

“Absolutely not - there’s just me and my mom - and she can’t walk. No-one has permission to take him anywhere,” she said, her face white with fear. “Was this a kidnap? A weirdo after my son? What?”

“We need more facts before we can answer that,” Decker said. “I’ll need to speak to Martin soon, whenever it’s ok with you. And I’d like to speak to his teachers, find out why he was out in an alleyway alone.”

Fran looked up. “You know what - yeah, I’d _love_ you to ask them. Ask them what the heck they were thinking.” She stood up, clutching Martin’s hand. “You want to come in? Have some coffee?”

“I’d… like that, yeah,” she smiled.

A loud car horn suddenly honked from the kerb. The two women jumped, but Martin giggled.

“I say! Detective!” came a man’s shout. “Whenever you’re ready! I have to get to an important party and you’re being really very inconsiderate!”

Decker bit her lower lip against several swear words. Then she looked at Fran. “Can I call you this evening, Mrs Boemicky?” she asked. “When you’ve had time to speak to Martin yourself?”

“Of course.” She reached to the left, over Martin’s head, to some kind of shelf inside the house. She produced a small brown card. “That’s me.”

“Uh - thanks,” Decker said. She waved at Martin, nodded at Fran, then turned and walked off down the path.

She got back to the car to find Lucifer’s hand stretching for the horn in the centre of the steering wheel. “Hey!” she said, reaching in the open window and slapping at him.

He jerked back, surprised.

She just grinned and opened the door, getting in and finding her keys.

“Wait - you enjoyed that, didn’t you?” he said slowly.

“Getting to something before you could? Yes.” She turned the key in the ignition, revving the engine slightly.

“No - that wasn’t what you liked. What you _liked_ was the idea that you had inflicted pain. On me.” His eyes creased in sudden delight. “Well well well - that changes everything, doesn’t it?”

“Whatever,” she said, checking her mirrors before pulling out into the street.

“I should have known you’d be into rough stuff. Is that why you’re separated? Detective Douche _does_ seem the passive type.”

“Stop,” she sighed.

“Not on your life,” he grinned. “If all you wanted was to attempt to hurt me we could’ve got to spanking months ago. Where do you want me? Over your lap or bent over a table?”

The car lurched to the right but Decker straightened it up hastily. She cleared her throat as she concentrated furiously past the sudden images in her head. “Just - tell me what you saw today. In the alley.”

“Spoilsport,” he tutted.

“Come on - I get a call about a dead body and when we get there…?” She waved her hand in a circle.

“I was promised something juicy. All I got was a dead man, another one panicking over the dead body, and a small boy who would have seen who dropped the man if he hadn’t been taken in by some woman’s trick of pretending to fly as she sprinted down the alley from a standing start,” he said tartly. “ _Boring_.”

“Martin said the woman came to get him out of class to take him to see his grandmother,” Decker mused. “There were no witnesses to this whole thing other than Martin…” She huffed. “So Martin was the only one who saw this woman… The man in custody, Michael Beck - we have to know what he saw.”

“You mean _besides_ a friend dying on the ground?”

“Yes,” Decker said. “But if we’re not sure if this woman even exists, it doesn’t explain how Martin got out of school. Someone must have picked him up. And how did this woman know he had a grandmother to go and see? How did she know Nathan King and Michael Beck?”

“Who said she knew them?” Lucifer asked. “Maybe she really was just walking past.”

“Maybe Martin didn’t know that this woman already knew the two men - he did say it happened really fast. Michael Beck is positive that the dead body is his friend. He hasn’t said which one.”

“I’m pretty sure that man lying in the gutter was _not_ the mystery woman,” Lucifer mused.

“Because it was a _man?_ ”

“Because if it is, where’s the _other_ friend?” he asked, surprised. Then he snapped his fingers. ”Oh that’s right - you humans get so hung up on gender.”

Decker felt her mouth squirrel to one side in an attempt to remain calm. “So assuming there _is_ a woman, how did she just talk Martin’s teacher into letting him go?”

“Uhm… his teacher isn’t keen on human spawn either? It’s not a prerequisite for teaching, you know.”

“Maybe she can hypnotise people like you can.”

“I do not _hypnotise_ people, Detective. I merely… suggest they tell me things. Get them off their chest.” He flicked a look at his overly expensive watch. “Speaking of getting things off people’s chests - could you put your foot down? I don’t want to be late.”

“It’s three in the afternoon - what kind of party starts at three?”

He chuckled. “It started last night - there’s at least a few good hours left in it before it dies.”

“Why do I even ask?” she muttered. “Wait - when do you sleep?”

“I don’t _sleep_. I _recharge_.” He leant toward her meaningfully, waggling an eyebrow. “Frightfully fast.”

She pushed an elbow into him and he sat back with a grin. “Well while you’re drinking and laughing and pretending to enjoy yourself with all those socialite cellulite-dodgers,” she said, “just remember I may have to call on you for help if something comes up from this investigation.”

“You’re already convinced this woman did it. What else do you need?”

“I’m not convinced.”

“Yes you are. You have one dead body, one man in custody whose person has no evidence of doing harm, and one escapee. You think she did it.”

“I do not think—”

“You must do, otherwise you’d be asking me what kind of Satanic creatures are supposed to have black wings.”

“I would _not_ be—.” She paused with a huff. “You’re dying to tell me, aren’t you?”

“That’s normally my line. Tell you what?”

“You want to tell me what kind of Satanic creature has black wings.”

Lucifer sniffed, pulling his jacket straight. “All that boy saw was a raving looney making a stop to say hi to two men, who unfortunately got into some kind of fight; one of them killed the other.”

“ _Or_ a woman tricked her way into his school, convinced the teacher to let her take him, and then walked him down an alleyway just as a man was dropping dead while walking with his friend. And oh, by the way, did I mention she ran off just at the time that the coroner thinks the man died?”

“There we are - case closed.”

“Riiiight,” she drawled under her breath. “We’ll wait for the autopsy on Nathan King first, then we’ll talk about cases being closed.”

“Is this before or after the spanking?” he grinned.

She tutted and shook her head.

The car drove on.

 

ooOoo

 

Decker walked in through the door to the interview room, finding Michael Beck sitting behind the table. Although he wasn’t handcuffed, something about his slouch suggested he had about as much will to move as a teenager before midday on a Sunday.

“Mr Beck,” she said. “I’m Detective Decker. I’m sorry for your loss.”

He looked up. “Yeah,” he managed. “How did he—. I mean, why did he die?” he asked quietly.

“We’re looking into it. We’re tracing next of kin so we can obtain permission for an autopsy.” She paused to sit down opposite him. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“Man - he was my best friend,” he said, pinning her with deep brown eyes made of anguish. “All I know is, we was walking through there for a shortcut. Everything was cool. Then we see this woman with a boy. She stopped to speak to Nate - Nathan. We don’t know her, but she’s standing there telling Nate to come clean about his feelings, like…” He paused to shake his head. “I don’t know. She said he had to make peace, get his conscience clear. Nate was like ‘who are you?’ and that - but she just kept saying it. He said he didn’t know what she was talking about. The next thing I know, he’s on the ground and I don’t know what to do. I never took no CPR course or nothing.”

“And the woman - you and Nathan had no idea who she was?”

“Nah, man - I was surprised she stopped to talk to us anyway.”

She nodded. “Do you know how we can contact his family?”

“He don’t have no family - not around here, anyways. Think they’re back in Georgia.” He stared at the table top.

She sat back. “I’m going to ask a detective to help you do a sketch of this woman, if you’re up to it. We’re going to do all we can to find her.”

“Sure,” he shrugged, clearly listless to the extreme. “You going to question her?”

“Absolutely, Mr Beck.”

“She was like… some kind of social worker or something - had a small boy with her. I shouted for help but she just took off.”

“What do you mean, ‘took off’?”

“Like - she was standing there, and then the next second she’s gone. I never seen anyone move so fast. You’d think _she_ was the black dude next to his dying friend,” he said sourly. “The poor kid… He was just lost. I don’t think he knew what was going down.”

“You said you thought she was a social worker. What made you think that?” she asked.

He sighed. “Yeah. She had that kinda… I don’t know, that vibe. When I called for help though she just…” He shrugged. “Maybe if they got paid more, they’d do more after hours to help, I guess.”

She stood up. “Thank you. You’re free to go, Mr Beck. Sorry to have taken your time in this way.” She paused. “Again… my condolences on your loss.”

“Yeah,” he sighed.

 

ooOoo

 

She unlocked the motel room door, gliding in and placing the key on the table. The door swung closed as if of its own volition as she went to the bed and flumped down on it.

Falling to her back on the nice clean sheets, she put her hands behind her head and looked up at the ceiling. “Nathan King,” she said to herself. “One down.”

She pushed herself up and went to the small overnight bag on the side table. A quick rummage around brought out a piece of paper with names scrawled on it. She flicked at the corner as something tumbled over and over in her head. She screwed up the paper and threw it with all her strength across the room. It bounced gently off the wardrobe door and rolled around the carpet, wondering what it had done to deserve such vehemence.

She turned her back to it. “No more. This is wrong.” She zipped up the bag and grasped the two long handles, heading for the door.

Screeching, blinding pain stabbed her in the brain. She cried out and dropped the bag. She was next, down to her knees with both hands clutching at her head.

“Please stop!” she yelled. “I will do as you command! I will obey!”

The pain faded. She hauled in air, pressed her hands to her head, and slowly, steadily, let her eyes open. The carpet blurred and then sharpened, her hands let go of her head, and she breathed deeply.

Eventually she put her hands to the bed and got up. She pulled her dress straight. “This must be what Hell is like.”

 

ooOoo

 

Lucifer patted a few shoulders of patrons as he slithered between people to get down the stairs. The music boomed out as he weaved through party-goers. Suits and elbows, feather boas and glittery things flounced about him as he made his way to the long leather sofas at the side of the room.

He flumped down into one just as Mazikeen stopped in front of him. “Is this a good slouch or a bad slouch?” she asked. She folded her arms across a fetching top made entirely of black leather straps.

“It’s been a long, boring day,” he huffed. “Fetch me something appropriate.”

A sly smile sneaked across her lips. “You want me to choose?”

The look he turned on her was a challenge. “Surprise me.”

She tilted her head and then disappeared back into the crowd. Literally a minute later she was back with a glass. She plonked it down on the achingly beautiful table by his left hand. The liquid sloshed in it hard. He picked it up, sniffed it, and swallowed the lot in one go. “Well that was about as exciting as a chastity belt. Did you not understand me?” he grumped.

She lifted a hand and snapped her fingers. “That was to keep you grumpy. Want to know something else?”

“What?” he tutted.

“The Britneys - they’re not here tonight.”

“Right. You know I’m sure I could find some kind of sharp other-worldly item to cut myself on if you want to squeeze some lemon juice into the wound.”

“I’m not finished,” she said. He looked up to see two people pushing through the crowd to come up behind her. “So instead, you’ll have to play with Brad and Brad.”

The two young men popped out from behind each of her shoulders. Lucifer’s eyes went up and down them. Slowly.

“Ooh, that’s more like it,” he oozed, getting to his feet. “Evening, gentlemen.”

“Are you really the owner here?” Brad asked. A whole head shorter than Lucifer, he came forward and put his hand out, stopping just in front of him. His black tux was very smart and very new. They shook hands firmly.

The other Brad, his hair darker and his shoulders wider, closed in from Lucifer’s right. “And more importantly, is this _your_ booze collection?”

Lucifer looked from one to the other. “Yes and yes,” he said, stepping forward and putting a hand on a shoulder each. He turned the two of them around and his arms slid around theirs securely. “Let’s go play a few rounds of Sink the Pink, shall we?”

The two men grinned as the three of them made their way round the bar to stop in front of the elevator doors.

“Press that for me, would you Brad?” Lucifer asked. The man obliged and the Devil tilted his head to appraise one, then the other. “You know, I think I’ll call you Barbie Brad and Ken Brad.”

“What does that make you?” ‘Barbie’ Brad asked.

“Why, your master who must be obeyed, of course,” Lucifer replied with an evil grin. The two men laughed over the very soft ping of his private lift doors arriving. “Here we are. Last one _up_ is a rotten egg - if you know what I mean.”

The doors opened. The two Brads converged on the gap.

Until a _whoosh_ and a howling, rippling sound pushed all three of them to their backs. Lucifer made a grab for his assailant but speed was not on his side. As the two Brads scrabbled back to their feet the screaming began.

Panic spread through the room. The music stopped. Frightened humans stampeded the exit, rushed forward, stormed the exits. The screams could be heard out onto the pavement, the dying afternoon air carrying them effortlessly.

Lucifer rolled to his front, using his elbows to keep him steady enough to see what was going on. A hand went round his arm and helped him to his feet.

“Quite unnecessary, but I can see why you would,” he said. He followed the hand to see that it belonged to ‘Ken’ Brad. “You’re a brave lad, staying behind when Barbie Brad ran.”

Brad pointed up to the ceiling. “What the hell is that, man?” he demanded.

Lucifer looked up in time to see a swirling mass of black flip back on itself - and then whoosh out of the exit above everyone’s heads as if jet propelled.

He looked down at his hand - and the item clutched in it.

The black item.

That was shaped curiously like a feather.

“Bloody hell,” he sighed.

 

 


	2. How the Party Has Fallen

 

 

Decker tapped at the keyboard at her desk, staring determinedly at her screen. “Michael Beck… no criminal record. Bank account flush, single, no kids… What possible motive could you have for killing your best friend in an alleyway?” She huffed and sat back, then looked at the folder next to the keyboard. Then she sat forward and began clicking away with her mouse. “So… social media, then. What kind of arguments were you guys having?” She read and re-read, sat back, got comfortable, and began to trawl through messages and posts.

Eventually she put her hands to her face and scrubbed it hard.

“Nothing. Just best friends.” She looked at the screen again. “It wasn’t for money. It wasn’t for love - both of you were single, not seeing anyone. You weren’t intoxicated or high - what could have made you turn on your best friend?” She shook her head slowly. “Well either you’re the best actor in the world - and managed to cover up any motive at all for killing your friend - or you’re not a suspect.” She paused. “I’m going to rule you out, Michael Beck.”

“Hey Decker - you busy?” came a voice.

She turned to see another female officer approaching her desk. She closed the files and cleared her screen. “What is it, Lopez?”

“A report just came in - a huge disturbance at a club on Hollywood Boulevard.”

Decker felt her shoulders sagging. “Don’t say it.”

“Yeah - it’s Lux,” Lopez grinned. “You want to take this one? I ain’t touching it with a ten foot pole.”

“Fine,” she sighed. She got to her feet. “Where’s the sheet?”

“They’re literally taking statements there now. You got a car?”

Decker lifted her phone. “I’m not going down there until I’ve spoken to the owner and established that it’s actually a thing.”

“If you say so,” Lopez shrugged. She turned and walked away.

Decker pressed at the most recent number in her phone’s call list and put it to her ear. It clicked almost immediately.

“Detective?” came a familiar voice. “How fortuitous. I think you should come to my club. I’ve got something on me that you really ought to see.”

She frowned. “We’ve been over this; I will not sleep with you!”

Heads turned her way. She shrugged into her jacket and turned her back to them.

Down the phone, he was laughing in delight. “I say, easy tiger. I was talking about evidence from the scene of a crime.”

“What crime?”

His voice turned most affronted. “A $7,000 bottle of Elit by Stolichnaya has been smashed for one thing, and—”

“Decker!”

She jumped and turned to see a man on the other side of the room waving a hand at her. “Dead body at Lux - your call, the Lieutenant says!”

She nodded at him as she turned with her phone still to her ear. “Anything _else_ you’d consider a crime?”

“The death of a very good party,” Lucifer went on. “Two £25,000 _Frrrozen_ Haute Chocolates shipped especially from New York just _ruined_. One escaped emu. And though it pains me to say it, the fashion sense of a few of my patrons.”

“Wait - did you say emu?”

“It was a favour for a friend.”

“And what about the dead person I’m just hearing about?”

“Well yes, that too I suppose.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m on my way down. Whatever it is you have on you? Keep it there. I mean it.”

“Ooh, forceful. I like it.”

She pulled the phone away from her ear to glare at it. “I’m hanging up now,” she called. She pressed at the red button and stuffed the phone in her jacket pocket. Swiping her car keys from the desk, she stomped out of the room, wary of everyone’s eyes on her.

 

ooOoo

 

Lucifer stepped around the police officers busying around the cordoned-off sofas in the club lounge. He pulled a shirt cuff straight to assess the amount of club still left open to walk through.

“Hey, uh… can I get another?”

He turned to find ‘Ken’ Brad leaning against the bar, an empty glass in his hand. “Oh dear - this won’t do, will it?” he said cheerfully, crossing the space between them and picking up a fresh glass. He reached around the back of the bar counter and produced a large bottle with a pouring spout already fitted. “Let me get you something special.”

“You know what’s surprising?” Brad asked quietly. He watched the Devil pour out a sizeable amount of bourbon.

“That Jada Pinkett Smith isn’t a demon?” He lifted his smile and his hand, offering the glass to him.

Brad took it. “What?”

“Well - she’s _magnificent_ , don’t you think? All that poise, charisma, and controlled fury - and that _arse_. Ooh,” he shivered abruptly, his shoulders wriggling.

“Lost on me, I’m afraid,” Brad said, sipping the cold drink.

“Really? Limit yourself to one gender, do you?” Lucifer asked. He planted an elbow on the bar to take his weight and settle a curious smile on Brad. “I wonder what that must be like,” he mused, watching the other man.

Brad took another drink. “What’s surprising is that… all this shit went down this afternoon, and the entire evening is going to be police questions and going home wondering where the day went… but all I can think about is you and me.”

Lucifer’s grin went very wide and very smug. “Well of course it is! Oh but it’s not your fault,” he said with loud cheer. “Stick around, Brad. Make yourself at home.”

“Seriously?” he asked.

“Seriously. I don’t know how long I’ll be indisposed for today, but we still have unfinished business.”

Brad smiled, sank the rest of his bourbon, and put down the glass. “Rain check. I have to answer questions - but I’ll be back.”

“Oh I know you will.” He gave a sly wink.

Brad nodded with a grin, then turned to a police officer calling to him.

Lucifer’s smile shrank and he walked around the counter, helping himself to a large drink. He managed one sip before a familiar voice caught his attention. He looked up to see Decker had appeared next to Brad and the officer scribbling down his answers in a notebook.

“Ah! Detective!” Lucifer cried.

She turned and spotted him. “I haven’t even seen the dead body yet,” she said, crossing to meet him by the yellow tape to her left.

“If you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all,” he said. “Perfectly good evening ahead and look at it - ruined,” he tutted. “Drink?”

“I’m on duty.”

“You’re thinking about it though, aren’t you?” he smiled.

“Why do you even try with your Jedi mind tricks? Just tell me why this…” She turned and looked down at the woman currently surrounded by a white outline on the floor. “This… thirty-something party girl is dead right by your favourite couch.”

“She got in the way of a black-winged creature.”

She turned a glare on him. “The one you told Martin didn’t exist?”

“Is he the tiny man-thing you found in the alley?”

“Martin. His name is Martin,” she said. She folded her arms. “Wait - what do you call Trixie when I’m not around?”

“‘Decker-spawn’,” he shrugged, with his own brand of innocence.

She glared at him. Hard.

“ _Joking_ , Detective,” he grinned. His hand went out and rubbed at her upper arm affectionately. “Anyway, you dropped me off here just after three in the afternoon.” He put his hand back in his pocket. “I got in, spoke to Maze, had a drink, and then she introduced me to a lovely pair of young men. We were heading upstairs for the usual when this thing just burst out of the lift and nearly took my head off.”

She put a hand up in surrender. “Who were going where?”

“Brad, Brad and I were heading upstairs,” he said simply. “We were waiting for my private lift.”

“You mean the elevator.”

“Yes, the up-and-downy thing,” he said deliberately. “The one that _lifts_ you to other floors.”

“And here’s me thinking it _elevates_ you to other floors.”

“Odd, don’t you think, that a country that has spent a significant amount of time distancing itself from its parentage by changing spellings and names of half of its vocabulary to make things simpler would plump for a long word like ‘elevator’ when ‘lift’ would suffice.”

“Distancing itself from its parentage?”

“Oh don’t get me wrong - I can relate,” he said happily. “But one does have to wonder if it’s just out of spite. Then again, it’s so wonderfully _human_ to be so ironic.”

“We’re getting off-topic. _Again_ ,” she said. “You and these two guys were heading back to your apartment for - what - drinks? A smoke on the balcony? Business?”

“Sex,” he said with a nod.

She paused. “Oh. But—. Oh. I didn’t realise—. Well. Sorry.”

“Don’t be - your hang-ups are the same as the police officer currently questioning Brad,” he said amiably.

“My—?”

“Meanwhile the whole evening has been put on the back burner by a black-feathered miscreant.”

“Do you have any idea how crazy this sounds?”

“Do you want to see the footage?”

“Do I what?”

“We have security cameras here, you know. It doesn’t do to have people think they can take the piss out of my hospitality. We had two pick-pockets last week alone.”

She frowned. “Pick-pockets. Did you call the police?”

“Hell no - if there’s one person you don’t steal from, it’s me,” he grinned. “I handed the little gits to Maze. She had a _very_ good time.”

“I don’t want to know,” she said, putting both hands up. “Footage, please.”

“Be careful who you say that to, love,” he said, turning to pick up his drink and walk away, around the long end of the bar. “We have a hot tub out the back. Wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea, now would we?”

She resisted the temptation to roll her eyes and then followed him to a door she had never noticed before. “Is this your back office?”

“Just don’t look too closely at the books. Oh. _Again_ ,” he said, his smile slipping.

“Come on, Lucifer, it was one time.”

“You’d be surprised how often I’ve heard that over the eons.” He produced a small gold key and unlocked the entrance. He swung it inside on its hinges and waved a hand out. “After you.”

She stepped in and found it was already well lit. A surprisingly small room, it housed an antique writing desk against the far wall, a matching chair tucked neatly into it. Two tall computer servers in shiny black cases adorned one wall, the occasional small blue light blinking at her as she crossed to the desk. On it sat a single slim MacBook, closed and looking very amused by her confused stare.

“Is this it? Your security system?” she asked.

He was closing the door behind himself. “Well… yes. And entire ‘back office’ department.” He pocketed the key. “What did you expect?”

“From you? I don’t know, something… old-fashioned. Antique, like your desk.”

He smiled as he approached the chair next to her. “Really, Detective. This is 2016, after all. You humans have made great strides in reducing bulky, cumbersome record-keeping to numbers on something called a ‘spreadsheet’.”

“You do accounts now?”

“Absolutely not. That’s for people who need to work for a living,” he said with distaste. “Besides, this mere slip of a thing can do most of it for us.” He rubbed his hands together. “Right then. Filmed footage of this afternoon, round about three o’clock.”

She stood back to give him room and he sat down, pulling a piece of folded up paper from his pocket. He opened up the MacBook and muttered to himself as he navigated what appeared to be steps on the paper. She turned away, wandering around the small room. Her gaze tripped over the single print on the wall by the door, and she walked over to see it was a brown line-drawing, with small writing over the top of some kind of monstrous gate. She leant closer to try to read the inscription above. “Lass-ki-ayt ogna- ogna—”

“ _Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate_ ,” he corrected, pre-occupied.

“What does it mean?”

“Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.”

“ _That’s_ not creepy at all. Is this part of your whole ‘Devil’ thing?”

“Ask Dante. I never met the man. I was a little busy back then.”

She put her hands behind her back, scrutinising the simple drawing. “Odd for you not to have art in here. Ah - you don’t spend a lot of time _in_ here, do you?”

“Well done. You should be a detective.”

She smiled and walked over. “Well? Anything on film?”

“As it happens…” He sat back and turned the laptop toward her slightly. “We have _something_.” He pressed a key and she stooped to watch carefully.

The camera appeared to have been positioned over the top of the lift doors; she found herself looking down on Lucifer, his arms around two men, all three of them smiling. One of them reached out and pushed at something out of sight below the camera, and then drew back until the three of them began to talk.

Suddenly something huge and black obscured the camera. She jumped as Lucifer slammed his hand down on the space bar of the keyboard.

“Sorry. Just let me…” He tapped at two keys and the video started again at a quarter speed. The frames creaked by, the black mass seeming to ripple and ruffle past the lens. At last it ended in feathers, tearing away from the three men on the floor so fast Decker’s thoughts went to checking the playback speed.

Something not black was in the mass of feathers; they ripped out of shot but the blur of _thing_ slowed. She recognised a hand with a familiar ring on it - and a black feather clutched in its grip. As the mass disappeared out of sight altogether, the two men and Lucifer were revealed to be sprawled on their backs on the floor.

The Lucifer behind the desk sat back and folded his arms, looking up at the wall in thought.

She stared at the slow-moving image. The two men were rolling as if trying to determine which way was up. Lucifer appeared to already know and was more concerned with the item in his hand. Unused to seeing his face without a single trace of either smutty amusement or charm, her eyes bored into the mini-movie. Just as she went to pull back, the excitement over, she noticed a flash of unexpected colour.

“Wait - go back,” she said.

“What?” He sat up and put his hand to the space bar, pausing the playback.

“Go back. Like five seconds.”

“What have you seen?”

“I don’t know - go back so I can see it again.”

He manipulated the navigation bar onscreen, but then his eyes raised to watch her face as she studied the images.

“Oh. No, it’s ok,” she sighed, straightening up. “Make a copy for the police, please. I want to take this back to the station to study it. We might be able to run this through the lab and get images off it.”

“If you think it’ll help,” he said with a shrug. He turned the MacBook back to himself and began playing with keys.

“I hope this set-up wasn’t expensive.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked, opening a side drawer and fishing around. He finally came up with a black flash drive. He plugged it in.

“Your cameras can’t even account for red-eye.”

“Isn’t that what you humans call overnight flights?” he smiled.

“That and the effect that happens when the flash or light or whatever it is catches your eyes in a photo and makes it look like you have actual red eyes.”

“Does it?” he asked, aghast enough to look at her. “And people make machines that _do_ that?”

She put her hand out. “Footage, please.”

“It’s transferring, Detective. Honestly. A little patience would really improve your state of mind.”

She wandered to the door and back as slowly as she could.

“There, done,” he said cheerfully, pulling out the drive and holding it out for her. “Although I really would like to know what you thought you saw on that screen.”

“Oh it was just the light,” she said. “It hit your eyes wrong as you were getting up off the floor - for a second there, they looked bright red.”

“That’s very interesting,” he said, closing the lid on the MacBook and getting to his feet.

“Really? How?” she asked.

He walked to the door, opening it up for her to leave first. “Well it didn’t do that to anyone else in the shot.”

She smiled, then paused before her face dropped. She looked up at him.

“After you, Detective.”

 

ooOoo

 

She walked back up to her desk and sat, picking up all the small yellow Post-It notes scattered about. She sifted through them slowly. “Michael Beck - no history…” She turned the next one round. “Beck’s finished with sketch artist - sending up woman suspect sketch when ready.” He frowned. “No match so far in mugshots…”

“Decker - got a minute?” came a shout.

She looked across the busy station floor to see a woman in a blue windbreaker waving hopefully at her across the room. “Yeah - what is it?”

The woman beckoned her over and she got up, adjusted her gun and badge, and made her way to where she was standing. Shorter, darker, and possessed by some kind of nervous energy, the woman put her hand out to shake.

“Hi. Wanamaker - Mallory. Everyone calls me Mal,” she said.

Decker looked at her hand, then shook it firmly. “New?”

“This is my first day,” she said. “I transferred from San Diego. Nice and warm there, too, but the hours didn’t suit me. Mainly because I was at work when everyone else was too, and I don’t seem to get on with anyone on account of me talking too much about things I probably shouldn’t.” She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Like that. Sorry.”

Decker smiled. “Don’t worry about it. Did you want me for something?”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry - I almost forgot. I do that a lot. I’m not very sociable - I don’t get the chance, you know? So when I do get into a conversation I talk a lot - so much that I forget what I was—.” She huffed and looked at the floor. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Decker said. “Was it evidence?”

Mallory nodded, her eyes rising from the tiles to find Decker’s. “That security video you brought in. I’m the tech who had to go over it for you - some nice stuff to have to clean up - that Lux is quite a club, right? And it was fun to do - the footage was pretty good but the dark areas and the fact that the speed of the movement was beyond what the camera was built to—.” She blew out a sigh. “Sorry. I’ve got some stills for face-fits and I’ve sharpened up the rest of the footage as much as I can. Want to see it?”

“Take me to it,” Decker nodded.

The two women turned and began to walk.

“There you are!”

Decker stopped dead. She let out a huff. “What are _you_ doing here?” she asked even as she turned around.

Lucifer plunged a hand in his pocket, the other stroking his jacket closed as if worried the cut looked out of place. “I was told to come in and make a statement, the complete and rather detailed account I gave at my club apparently not being good enough.” He paused to take in the other woman standing just behind Decker. “Well, _hello_ ,” he said with a wide, welcoming smile. His eyes went down her black shirt and trousers, her long dark hair in the lazy ponytail. “And who might you be?”

Mallory stared, her eyes wide and her mouth firmly shut.

Lucifer’s head tilted to one side in bemusement. “Well come on, love, what’s your name? Are the three of us going to be working together?”

“No,” Decker said quickly, “absolutely not. Mal was just working on your security tape and—”

“‘Mal’?” he prompted. Decker moved but he stepped to his right to better see the awestruck woman. “Such an _interesting_ name. Parents do that to you?”

Mallory nodded in silence.

Lucifer nodded along in complete sympathy. “Well names don’t define us, remember that.”

She let out a tiny, barely-there squeak. Decker took her arm. “Come on, Mal - show us what you’ve found.” She marched her along and headed for the corridor.

Lucifer rubbed his hands together. “A threesome. About time.” He followed.

 


	3. Take the Hindmost

 

 

She unlocked the motel room door, gliding in and placing the key on the table. The door swung closed as if of its own volition as she went to the bed and flumped down onto it.

Falling to her back on the nice clean sheets, she gazed up at the ceiling. “Jamie Reyes and Nathan King,” she whispered. “Two down.”

She stared at the ceiling - and stared. Eventually she pushed herself up off the bed and went to the balled-up paper on the carpet. She unravelled it and then looked down the list.

She pocketed the paper, turned to the motel door, and pushed every single thought from her mind.

 

ooOoo

 

Decker followed Mallory into the tech room, finding the lights were not as bright as they could have been, and the two long black desks were littered with empty coffee mugs and fast-food wrappings. Monitors were scattered about seemingly at random, the work spaces in between appeared to be warring over territory rights, and the entire room smelt of three unwashed humans after a particularly long online gaming session.

Lucifer followed them in but stopped on the threshold. “My my my,” he said, his nose wrinkled in disgust.

Mallory was going to the end of the second of the desks, to the only empty and clean space in the room.

“Is this your desk?” Decker asked.

Mallory nodded, making Lucifer huff to himself. “I can tell,” he said, walking past the three other police techs, currently peering at him from over their monitors. “Maid’s day off, is it, gentlemen?” he asked loudly, making them jump. “Or are you expecting your mum to come in and clean for you?” He paused to sniff the air next to the nearest man. “You _have_ been waiting a long time. Tell me, are you familiar with the process of rubbing yourself with soap and then rinsing it off with warm water?”

Mallory slapped her two hands over her mouth, aghast.

The man looked back at Lucifer. “You’re not supposed to be in here - civvies ain’t allowed back here.”

Lucifer peered down at him with a decidedly damning expression. “What is it you really want, you grubby little man?”

The officer paused. “What?”

“You can tell me. I’m good at secrets.”

His mouth trembled open. “You can’t just come in here… and…”

“Oh but I can,” Lucifer said, unamused. “I think I already have. Now come on, what do you really want?”

“Uh…”

“Yes, come on… You really want to tell me, don’t you?”

“I want…”

“Yes?”

“I want… my ex-wife to leave me alone. Sometimes I dream about murdering her and blaming it on her new boyfriend. He’s an asshole.”

Lucifer’s eyes lit up. “ _Reeaa_ lly,” he said with a sudden grin.

The man blinked and sat up straight. “Er… what?”

“You were just telling us how you were going to pop home and shower.” Lucifer looked at the other two men, watching him with wary eyes. “All of you.”

As one the three men got up, tapped at keys to lock their PC screens, and walked out.

Lucifer rubbed his hands together and came up to the two women. “Right. Now we’re not in imminent danger of being suffocated by pungent man-fumes, let’s get started, shall we?”

Mallory pointed at the monitor. Decker turned to see. “This looks like footage from the club… I’ve seen this bit. This is before the thing obscures the camera in front of the elevators.”

Mallory nodded and then pressed at keys, and very slowly, HD frame by HD frame, the footage eked by. Again Lucifer and the two Brads were in front of the camera. Again the lift doors opened and something whooshed out.

This time the forms of two furling wings were clearly visible. So was Lucifer’s hand as it snatched at the passing object. Mallory let the entire episode go past before she paused it. The footage disappeared to the bottom of the screen, to be replaced with a new recording. This one was full of people talking, dancing, drinking.

“And this is the last footage of the woman - Jamie Reyes - before she died?” Decker asked.

Mallory nodded. The three of them stood and watched until Decker pointed at something. Mallory paused it.

“See her?” Decker asked. “She looks a little old to be in your club.”

Lucifer frowned. “How rude. _Everyone’s_ welcome in my club, thank you. And besides, she’s still a few thousand years younger than me.”

Decker shook her head, concentrating on the colour images now moving very slowly. “She’s talking to Jamie Reyes,” she mused. “Suspect, right there.”

“Hold on,” Lucifer said. “Jamie’s walking off but the woman’s still… There, look. Now she’s started on that other woman.” They continued to watch the tiny drama, until Lucifer’s face twisted in mystery. “The mature woman doesn’t seem happy,” he mused. “Which is odd. The only reason anyone is not happy in _my_ club is if _that’s_ what makes them happy.”

“How can not being happy make them happy?” Decker asked.

“For some people it’s comfortable,” he mused, pre-occupied. “Familiarity reassures people.”

Mallory turned her head and gazed at him until he realised what she was doing. He looked at her and gave a decidedly saucy wink. She jumped and her eyes snapped back to the recording. Lucifer’s smile faded into sadness as he studied her profile.

“There - the woman, the one the old woman was talking to. She’s with the victim - she’s with Jamie Reyes,” Decker said.

Mallory paused the footage, then reversed it a few seconds. She let it play, then paused it on the image of the pestered woman now face to face with the victim - apparently determined not to talk to her, either.

“Ooh dear - she’s not very sociable at all, is she?” Lucifer said. “She won’t talk to the mature woman, and she won’t talk to the poor soul who ended up in the morgue. I wonder why.”

“Let’s find out,” Decker said. “The officers on the scene got names and addresses of everyone.” She turned to Mallory. “Can I get images of that older woman to use for ID?”

Mallory nodded and her fingers flashed over the keyboard. Screens shot up and ran through questions as she tore through some long process in what seemed like seconds. She stopped and stood back.

There was a beep and Decker pulled her phone from her pocket. She opened it up to find the image already on the SMS now plastered over the screen of her smartphone. “Wow - that was fast. Thanks, Mal.” She looked up at her. “I’ll be back to go through the rest of the footage later, ok?”

Mallory, her face already going red, nodded with a small smile.

Decker smacked the back of her hand into Lucifer’s arm. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll be right behind you,” he said.

She walked out, leaving Mallory staring up at him as if transfixed. He put his hands behind his back and his head tilted to one side in fascination. They stayed that way for nearly a minute, until he bent closer to whisper in her ear.

“What do you _really_ want? More than anything?”

She closed her eyes, taking in the expensive aftershave that made her knees weak, the magnetic draw of his voice in her ear, the close feel of something so powerful it made her bones want to vibrate.

“Don’t want to tell me?” he whispered. “Or can’t?”

She gave a single, tiny nod.

“That’s ok - guessing is _fun_.” He stood back, then stooped slightly in the knees to peer into her eyes. “You want to be ‘stronger’. You want to be able to talk to people and have them _listen_ instead of relegate you to the bottom of the pile when you should be leading this room of monkeys.” He put a hand up slowly, watching for her pulling away - but she didn’t. He cupped her face gently, his turning sad. “You’re better than them. You’ve struggled with so much, for so long, and it certainly hasn’t made you weak. It’s brought you here, where you could be _queen_ of this room if you wanted. In fact, you already _are_ \- the other officers here just don’t know it yet.” He paused, assessing her eyes brimming with water. “Their lives have been easy. You’ve fought all your life for everything you have, all by yourself. You are _amazing,_ Mal. Don’t let anyone tell you different. And most of all, don’t let the officers here drag you down to their level. You give them a kick up the arse and wake them up.” He smiled brightly. “Can you do that?”

She looked down but nodded. His hand slipped from her face but she reached out and grasped his fingers in hers.

“There, see?” he said cheerfully. “It’s all here waiting for you - you just need to take it. In tiny, quiet ways - your _own_ way - but you can.”

She made herself look up, directly into his eyes. “Thank you,” she said on a whisper.

He grinned. “Oh, darling, you’ll be ok. Tell you what.” He let go of her hand to reach into his inside jacket pocket, bringing out a card. “My number. Should you need anything.”

She took it as she stared up at him. He winked - this time a firm, reassuring manoeuvre that made her smile. Then he was off toward the door and gone.

Her hands gripped the card for a long moment. She read it carefully, then slid it into the top inside pocket of her windbreaker. She put a hand out behind her, grabbed a black garbage bin liner, and opened it up. She carried it to the transparent project board currently full of sticky notes of cartoons, taped papers containing doodles and scribbled comments. Her hand reached for the board rubber and she cleaned it all off. She ripped off all the juvenile attachments and binned them. Then she opened a drawer, found the duct tape, and attached the open bin liner to the bottom of the board, letting its mouth hang wide open. She picked up a marker pen and got to work.

She stood back, capped the pen, and looked at it proudly.

A cartoon basketball net had been drawn over the top of the bin liner. Above it were the words ‘ _You are a product of millions of years of evolution; friggin’ act like it. We’re all in this room together_.’

She folded her arms and smiled. Patting the windbreaker over the card in the inside pocket, she walked back to her station, pulled out the stool, and settled herself for a long evening of digital HD clean-up.

 

ooOoo

 

Decker steered the car round the turning, checking traffic as she headed down the quiet street. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be back at your club?” she asked.

“Quite sure. It’s still crawling with uniformed officers. Maze is quite capable of keeping their noses out of everything, thank you,” Lucifer said.

Decker smiled. “Yeah, but… don’t you have work to do? Like running the place?”

“Not until this evening. And putting up with crime scene officers is such a bore.” He put his elbow on the window block and looked out. A phone beeped from his trouser pocket and he pulled it free, his eyes darting over some kind of text that made him chuckle.

“Ok - no,” she said suddenly.

“What?”

“You will not sit there and make those dirty laughs like you’re the perviest guy on the face of the planet reading a porn script.”

“Detective, please,” he said indignantly. “I may have had the most outrageous sex with many, _many_ of you humans, but there are a few of you who have taught _me_ a few things.”

“Yeah, speaking of - who are ‘Brad and Brad?” she asked.

“The two gentlemen Maze found for me.”

“‘Found’?” she asked. “Sounds dangerously close to pimping people out, to me.”

“How dare you,” he tutted. “Maze saw I was annoyed and she took care of me, like she always does. She knew what I’d be in the mood for and she diverted resources from where they would have been wasted, and sent them in my direction.”

“Diverted resources?” she spluttered.

“Well yes,” he said, surprised. “Those two were either going to end up with each other or a couple of my door security men. Why let that go to waste?” he asked. She shook her head, speechless. He turned in his seat to appraise her carefully. “Do you have a problem with what I get up to in my _private_ life?”

“You? Private? Hardly,” she snorted.

“So you _do_ have a problem.”

“Me? Nope,” she said firmly. “Absolutely not.”

“And yet you’re curious about Brad and Brad. Hmm.” His head canted to one side as he watched her.

“Stop that.”

“I’m thinking.”

“Well don’t strain yourself.”

His mouth squirrelled to one side. “I must say I’m disappointed.”

“With what?” She glanced at him.

“You. I thought you were a forward-thinking, modern woman, Detective. And yet you’re affected by the knowledge that it was two _men_ I was with.” He shook his head. “How archaic.”

“It’s not that,” she said, irritated. “Well ok - it’s kind of that. But it’s not what you think.”

“Oh do tell.”

She huffed. “It’s just… you were trying to sleep with _me_ for a long time and I know you and that shrink were—. Well. You know.”

“Banging like a screen door in a hurricane?” he asked politely.

She frowned at him. “I just thought you were into women, that’s all.”

“You humans - you’re _all_ just humans, Detective.”

She opened her mouth, thought about it, and let it close. Then she turned another corner slowly. “So you mean… you do both.”

“All.”

“And…” She threw a hand in the air. “Why are we even talking about this? It’s none of my business.”

“And _that’s_ the forward-thinking, modern woman I thought you were,” he said, apparently well-pleased. He turned around again to watch the road through the front window. “Although…”

“Although what?” she asked suspiciously.

“Well. If it’s not the fact that Brad and Brad are men that affects you, maybe it’s just that they’re not _you_.”

She stopped the car abruptly. He slapped a hand against the dashboard in an effort not to appear as jolted as he felt. “Here we are,” she said sweetly.

He got out of the car, pausing to pull his jacket straight and button it up. She came round the car bonnet and stepped up the kerb, looking up and down the street. “So this lady’s name is Ava Hernandez, she’s twenty-nine, originally from Mexico, been paying taxes in the U.S. for six years.”

“Let’s go ask her what she and the old girl - and then poor Jamie - were disagreeing about, shall we?” he said cheerfully.

She pushed a hand into his chest to stop him. “Do not do the hypnotising thing. Do not ask her about her ‘deepest, darkest desires’. Let me handle this.”

He looked down at her hand on his shirt. “Ooh. You know I _like_ ‘forceful’.”

She turned and pulled her hand off him, going up the short path to the front door. She rang the bell and waited.

Lucifer wandered up behind her, staying back a good three paces.

The door opened and a woman looked out. Devoid of all make-up and looking rather puffy round the eyes, her long dark hair had been tied back, and her fleecy top and matching bottoms screamed Victoria’s Secret.

“Hi,” Decker began. “I’m Detective Decker from the LAPD. I need to ask you some—”

“It’s you!” Ava blurted. “You own the club, right? It’s really you.”

Lucifer grinned, moving to one side of Decker’s shoulder. “Hello! Yes, it is indeed. May we come in?”

“Of course,” she said, something akin to desperation in her voice. “Please - excuse the mess.”

She stood back and held the door wide open. Decker stepped in first, finding a coffee mug on the counter and a plate complete with crumbs by the toaster. The rest of the kitchen was host to various bunches of flowers, of cards, of wrapping and parcels. Decker went through an archway to find a day room just beyond - tidy, ordered, smelling of lemon and fresh air. Lucifer went up the single step to the kitchen, pausing just over the door.

“Is this about the night before last?” Ava asked. “They said you’d come. I didn’t think it’d be actually be _you_.”

“Yes, it’s really me,” Lucifer beamed. “Who said I’d come?”

“The girls. I go to your club a lot and we kinda… well we hang out together now because we all met at your club. They’ve all been so… nice.” She swallowed.

He looked back and took in the centre table full of flowers. One card caught his eye and he picked it up. _With sympathy_ , he read. His face flipped into realisation and he looked over at her.

“Yeah, they started this morning,” she said quietly. “I don’t know - like everyone just suddenly _knew_ and started sending me stuff. Who even gets a delivery ordered so fast?”

“I am so sorry,” he said gently. “I had no idea. I’m with Detective Decker - we were going to ask you about the woman you saw in the club, but…” He looked around, putting the card back. “I am so _sorry_ , Ava.”

Decker rounded the arch, coming back into the kitchen. “Who is all this for?” she asked carefully.

“My cousin,” Ava said.

Decker looked at Lucifer, confused. Suddenly his expression was the gravest, most compassionate she had ever seen on a human face. “Her cousin was… at the club. We’re here to… solve the case around her unfortunate demise.”

Decker swallowed her shock. “I’m really sorry, Ms Hernandez - the station didn’t tell me you were Jamie’s next of kin.”

“No, it’s…” Ava’s breath faltered and then she put her hands to her face. “It’s so unfair.” Her shoulders began to shake.

Lucifer’s eyes rolled very quickly and very discreetly. “Well this won’t do,” he sighed.

She started to cry in earnest. “It’s not fair - she was all I had. And - and - she never even got a parking ticket! She was so _nice_ to everyone! She didn’t deserve to die!”

Lucifer frowned in thought. Decker noticed and shouldered her way past him, to go to the kitchen cupboards. She went through three before she found the glasses, and brought one out to fill it half full with water from the tap.

She came over and stood, not really knowing what to do next.

Lucifer put his hand up and gently prised one of Ava’s from her face. Her other one dropped too. “Now, now,” he said quietly. “A friend of mine is very good at talking to people, and making them feel better. Shall I ask her to pop round for a chat? Hmm?” His hand let go and took the water from Decker. “Get a bit of that down you.”

She took the glass gratefully, sipping it a few times before handing it back to him. She wiped her hands over her face, sniffing and covering her face. “It was just - so sudden. So sudden.”

“Let’s have a sit down, shall we?” he said.

She nodded and he walked with her through the archway to the front room, guiding her to the sofa. She sat as if she didn’t even care where the furniture was.

Decker wandered after them, picking up a box of tissues and carrying them over. She placed them on the sofa seat next to Ava, then crossed to sit in the armchair opposite her. “Can you explain what was unfair?” she asked gently.

Ava took a tissue, wiping her nose and nodding, her eyes on her own hands. “Jamie and I had a falling-out last night. She was seeing this girl - I didn’t like her. I thought she could do better. They broke up but…” She shook her head. “Anyway. It was silly - nothing really. I mean…” She pressed a fresh edge of the tissue to her eyes. “Who cares about that now?”

“You were both in the club last night, and then… was this girl there too? Jamie’s date?” Decker asked.

“She was to begin with. But I argued with her, and then she left.”

“Can you describe this woman?” Lucifer asked.

Ava looked at him. “Tall, blonde - like a lot of them. I’m sorry - all I got was her first name. Tina.”

“That’s more than enough,” Lucifer said.

“I was just angry with Jamie - over such a stupid thing.” She wiped an eye.

“Did you speak to another woman?” Decker asked. “Do you remember this person?” She lifted her phone and showed her the security still.

“Uh… yeah, actually. She was real nosy - she told me to make up with Jamie, to be friends with my cousin again. She said…” She let her forehead fall into her hand. “She told me that sometimes we do things and we don’t mean it. She said I should make up with my cousin, be at peace with her. She said none of us have long and not to waste it.” She looked up at Lucifer. “I thought she was drunk. She was this crazy old lady who was trying to tell me how to run my life. I told her thanks, but no thanks. She went away - I thought she was getting another drink.”

Lucifer nodded. “And the words… is that what she said? ‘Be at peace with your cousin’?”

“Yeah, I think so. Very close to that,” Ava sniffed.

He looked off to one side, his face dark with irritation. “Bugger.”

Decker looked at him, then back at Ava. “Uh… Did your cousin have anyone who wanted to hurt her?”

“No!” Ava cried, surprised. “At least I don’t think so.”

“No-one at work, or around here? An ex-girlfriend, someone who might have been upset she was seeing this Tina?” Decker asked.

“I really don’t know,” she sighed. “I don’t remember any problems with exes. We shared this house, we paid for it together… I just don’t know what’s going to happen now.”

“Do you have someone you can stay with?” Decker asked.

Ava wiped her nose. “Yeah, I suppose.”

“Maybe it’d be better for a while,” she said. “Just until you get a handle on all this, perhaps.”

She sniffed. “You’re very kind,” she said. Then she looked at Lucifer. “I’ve heard of you, of course. I had no idea you’d be so…” She balled the tissue in her hands. “Can you stay?”

“I really don’t think this is the right day for it, love,” he said, getting to his feet.

Decker got up. “We don’t want to disturb you any more than we have to, Ms Hernandez.”

“Oh, yeah - right,” she said, finding her feet.

Lucifer buttoned up his jacket, smoothing it straight. “We’ll see ourselves out, Ava. Just rest, take a breath. I’ll ask my friend to give you a call, is that ok?”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

“But if you need anything, you can call me.” He produced a business card, pressing it into her hand.

“What? Seriously?” she managed.

“Absolutely.” He squeezed her fingers, then let them go and turned away.

Decker walked with him to the kitchen door, letting him leave first before turning back and closing it. She thought for a moment, then walked down the short path to the sidewalk.

He was already on his phone, turned away from her, wandering down the pavement. She folded her arms and waited. Eventually he ended the call and turned back to the car, looking a little troubled.

“So?” she asked.

“What?” he asked, pre-occupied.

“So what was all that about? Do you provide counselling for all your paying patrons?”

“Hardly,” he said. He went around to the passenger door, trying the handle. It was still locked. He looked over the roof of the car at her, annoyed.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” she said.

His face split into a grin, very wide and very wicked. “Oh Detective, I don’t think you want to know.”

Decker was not deterred. “You asked her for that woman’s exact words, and then you arrange for who I’d guess is your shrink friend to speak with her. Why?”

“Because she must know more, but she just can’t think of it right now. You humans are very good at letting trauma interrupt your ability to tell people _useful_ things. She talks to Linda, she calls me back with better information. I would have thought _that_ would be useful to you.”

Decker raised her eyebrows. “Are you sure she can afford your shrink?”

Lucifer glared at her. Something made her want to step back, but she refused. He pointed at the car roof meaningfully. She unlocked the car and they both got in.

“She was a good patron who didn’t deserve to lose her cousin - trust me,” he said. “It happened in my club. So yes, I’ve asked Linda to see if she wants to talk, and I’ll cover the expense for now.” He paused. “As for the rest…”

“What?” she asked.

He rubbed a hand across his chin in thought. “I want to know what your lab has found out about that feather.”

 

 


	4. Triquetra

 

 

 

Mallory hummed to herself as she tapped and slid at her keyboard. There was a muffled curse and then the sound of paper being scrunched up into a tight ball.

She raised her head and watched the tech along the desk from her lob it, basketball style, into the makeshift garbage liner still attached to the bottom of the scribble board. It went in with a _thunk_ , making the three men punch the air in victory.

“Ok - two points,” Mallory said. “Can you write that up for me, Harv?”

The victor got off his stool immediately and went to the board, adding two stripes of a tally to his name. He turned and looked at the shortest man in the room. “That’s a lead of _three_ now, Lenny.”

“Yeah yeah,” Lenny replied, still hard at work on something on his monitor. Mallory smiled to herself.

They all heard the door open and turned to look.

“Ah - hello again,” Lucifer announced with a wide smile. “Mal - you look different. Let me see - hair? It’s your hair, isn’t it?” he teased. She opened her mouth but nothing would come out. He tilted his head as if listening. “No? Ok then… Ah! I know!” he cried, slapping his hands together. “It’s that these three neanderthals have had a wash and even laundered some clothes! Oh chaps - bravo!” he said, clapping slowly. “See how easy it is to get along with your team leader here when you observe basic standards of humour and hygiene?”

“Alright, you’ve made your point,” Decker said from the doorway. “These _officers_ are trying to work.”

“Trying would be the right word,” Lucifer said, as if to himself. “Won’t keep you long, fellas.”

Decker went to Mallory’s desk and leant a hand on it. “So… anything new on the footage?”

She nodded and got to work; shuffling through apps and windows at breakneck speed, she located what she was after and brought up a still. “The old woman? She only spoke to the one lady - then she just disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” Decker asked. She looked past Mallory to see Lucifer wandering the room, snooping over people’s shorter shoulders as they worked. She shook her head slightly and concentrated. “How do you mean?”

“See for yourself,” Mallory offered. She pressed a key and stood back.

Decker watched the woman try to get the attention of Ava Hernandez - until Ava turned away and walked off. The woman watched her go, then spun around. She appeared to head to the bar, until a group of three young men got in her way. Decker squinted at the image, following her head into the mix of people. But when the three men cleared, the woman was nowhere to be seen.

“Where did she go?” she asked. “Can you play that part again?”

“Sure.” Mallory reversed the playback for a few seconds. She slowed the frames to a painstaking crawl. Again the woman entered the crowd - but did not emerge.

“Fascinating,” said a voice over her shoulder.

She stepped back and raised a hand in a resigned invitation. “Please, Lucifer - what do you think?”

He bent over to see more closely. Mallory played the clip again. He frowned, his eyes focusing way past the screen. Finally he sucked in a deep breath through his nose as he shot upright. Mallory jumped.

“Has the other department finished their testing of the feather I grabbed?” he asked.

Decker shook her head. “Not yet. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Then we need better stills of the woman - you can’t recognise much from what we already have,” he announced. He spun on the balls of his feet and walked out.

Decker was torn between stopping him and speaking to Mallory. “Hey! Wait!” She turned to the other woman. “Do me a favour - get me some more stills, would you? Clear them up as much as you can and send them to my phone like before?”

“Sure,” Mallory nodded.

Decker went for the door and out.

 

ooOoo

 

“Hold all my calls, will you?” he said into the office phone.

“Will do, Mr Waterstone,” came the calm reply.

“Thanks.” Grant Waterstone put down the phone and got out of his chair, wandering to the large windows off to his right. He looked out over the city, his hands sliding into his trouser pockets, as he appraised the palm trees lining the street so far below.

A knock at the office door made him jump. “Not now, Mark!” he called.

But the door opened and a head popped in. “Hello, Grant,” said an older woman.

“Do I know you?” he asked. “I’m sorry but you’ll have to make an appointment - I’m waiting on a phone call from New York and—”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, but this is really urgent,” she went on, opening the door properly and walking in. Mark - short, handsome, busy Mark - was right behind her.

“Ma’am - you have to make an appointment,” he said, for what sounded suspiciously like the third time.

Grant stared at the woman, at the way she politely stared back without pressure. He lifted a hand. “No… wait, Mark,” he said slowly. “Come in.”

“Me, sir?” he asked, surprised. “Do you need coffee?”

“No, nothing like that,” he said. He gestured to the two leather chairs at the end of the room, opposite the sofa. “Will you have a seat, Miss…?”

“Thank you,” she said kindly. “You and I have a lot to discuss.”

“We do?” he mused, as if to himself. “Ok then.” He wandered over.

Mark watched, his mouth barely working through his surprise. “Uh… sir?”

“Mark,” the woman said brightly. “This concerns you, too. Won’t you please join us?”

Mark felt himself letting go of all the urgency, all the pressures of his life so far. He closed the door dutifully and walked over, taking one of the chairs. Grant unbuttoned his jacket and sat in the other one.

She settled herself on the couch. “Now this will come as a shock to you, but hear me out and I _promise_ you’ll feel better afterwards.” She relaxed into the comfortable furniture. “Now. I think you two have to talk about what’s bothering you about that deal that went wrong last month. There’s someone who’s waiting on it. And I think you have to repair the marvellous working relationship you used to have.”

Mark and Grant looked at each other, somewhat guiltily.

“Maybe,” Grant acceded.

“But…” Mark sat forwards, his hands on his knees. “Who _are_ you? How do you know about the Rachett deal?”

Both men jumped back in their chairs as she suddenly unfurled two large, black wings and stretched them like drying silk. “Oh but you see, I know _everything_ ,” she said with a warm smile. “I’m just here to help you make peace with it all. If you don’t…” Her face fell into discomfort. “Well, let’s just say you’ll make me do something I _really_ don’t want to do.”

 

ooOoo

 

 

Lucifer came down the stairs to the club, finding the place loud, alive, and heaving with happy, half-drunken people. He smiled and wended his way to the bar.

Mazikeen was behind it, filling an order with a complete round of shots. She plonked the last two down on the serving tray, whistled through her teeth to one of the waiters, and then slid up the bar to face her boss. “Well?”

“Things may get interesting,” he said darkly.

She grinned. “Oh _please_ tell me someone’s in your crosshairs.”

“Not yet,” he said, wagging a finger at her. “But… when it comes… be ready.”

“Ooh,” she oiled. She lifted a bottle of something not so much dark but physically unable to be anything brighter than Stygian. She poured it into a fresh glass and pushed it onto the counter, up in front of him.

He picked it up and sipped it. “Yikes - that’s good,” he marvelled.

“Hi.”

He turned at the voice. “Brad,” he said, his smile widening. “Are you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Yeah, only… the other Brad never came back,” he shrugged.

“Are you implying you’re not enough?” Lucifer asked. “Don’t ever think that.”

Brad’s mouth worked for a second. “You’re very… straight to the point, you know that, right?”

“Speaking of straight to the point,” Lucifer said, “the ‘elevator’ to my private penthouse is over there.”

Brad smiled. “Then why are we over here?”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Lucifer grinned.

 

ooOoo

 

“Well thank you for speaking to me, Principal Liu - I really appreciate it,” Decker said, getting up from her chair.

The older, shorter person stood behind his large desk. “Really, we appreciate you finding Martin and getting him home. I cannot express how angry I am that someone just took him from us,” he said, his face still red.

“If it’s any consolation… I don’t think the woman meant to hurt him,” she said. “It’s weird, but… this time there was no harm done.”

“ _This_ time,” Principal Liu said. He shook his head. “There won’t be a second time, put it that way.”

Decker put her hand out. “I’ll see myself out.”

“Thank you for coming, Detective.”

Decker shook his hand, then went to the door and out. She turned left and put her hands in her pockets, walking slowly down the school corridor. Eventually she found herself at the school entrance and she paused to look around.

Children ran to and fro across the playground, balls bounced around their feet, skipping ropes tangled and whooped through the air… and Lucifer dodged through the relatively tiny people in a very awkward fashion.

Her shoulders sagged just a little. By the time he had reached her, she had repaired her straight back and squared her shoulders. “You know, I saw less of previous partners than you.”

“And aren’t you glad,” he grinned. “So. Are you done giving the little spawn’s high school teacher a slap on the wrist? Or was it more than that - ooh, did you get pictures?”

“Stop,” she said firmly. She began to walk across the playground, in between the playing children.

Lucifer attempted to keep up, but was forced to lurch out of the way of the careening kids, nimbly avoiding all contact with them. “What do we do next?” he asked.

She made it out of the gates and began to walk the stretch of sidewalk to her car. “Principal Liu gave me the teacher’s statement. The one who let the old woman take Martin.”

“ _Principal_ Liu?” he asked. “I’ll bet he has a Chinese Chair,” he added wickedly. “The authoritarians _always_ have toys in the bedroom.”

“He has a ‘Chinese Chair’ because he’s Chinese? That’s racist,” she tutted.

“So he’s not allowed one _because_ he’s Chinese? _That’s_ racist,” he countered.

She rolled her eyes. “Just - just get in the damn car.” She unlocked it, flumping down into the driver’s seat.

He crossed around the back, opening the passenger door and settling himself without apparent effort. “So where to?”

“How did you even find me?” She paused. “And why are you in a new suit? Jeez, I swear it’s like every time I see you, you’ve just had Wardrobe and Make-Up prep you for a perfect close-up.”

“Thank you,” he beamed.

“And what’s that smell?”

He leant toward her suddenly, sticking his jaw in the air to expose his neck. “Do you like it?”

She pushed him away. “What is it?”

“My favourite. I only wear it on days when I really can’t stop myself from doing whatever I like.” He sat back.

“I thought that was every day,” she said. “What have you done now?”

“Brad. He’s _spectacularly_ bendy.”

“Wow - really,” she asked, in an attempt at reproach.

“Very. Ooh!” he said suddenly in inspiration. “You, me, and Brad. How about it?”

“Ok, stop,” she sighed. She twisted the key in the car ignition, bringing the engine to life. “The teacher who let Martin go from class with a complete stranger? She told the principal that the woman _talked her into it_ , like she just started speaking and suddenly she agreed with everything the woman said.” She turned a damning gaze on him. “Sound familiar?”

“Not really.”

“Nothing like you do, then.”

“Correct. I only encourage people to say what _they_ want. I don’t _make_ anyone do anything - and I certainly don’t make them do anything they don’t want to,” he said firmly. “Honestly, you people. It’s never your fault, is it? You have to find someone else to blame.”

“Yeah well - next stop is Martin’s house. We speak to him and see what he can tell us about this woman in the alleyway, and what connection she may have had to Nathan King.”

“When do we find out about the feather from my club?” he protested.

“One thing at a time, Lucifer. Martin’s alleyway incident happened first, so we follow up on that first, ok?”

“If you insist,” he sighed.

She drove off.

 

ooOoo

 

Mazikeen opened the office door and swaggered in, carrying a glass of something either very alcoholic or just simply evil. “Anything?” she asked.

The lone man at the security MacBook shook his head. She came up beside him and appraised the security recording running on the screen. “Honestly, Mazikeen, I’ve watched like three days of footage as fast I could without skipping - I can’t see anyone who looks like this ‘Tina’,” he said.

“Relax, I believe you,” she sighed. She took a sip of her drink. “Maybe there’s another way to find out.” She patted his shoulder and walked toward the door again. “But keep at it for now.”

“Right,” he sighed.

Mazikeen closed the door and went back to the bar. The thumping music did nothing to hide her feral smile as she slid around the counter and looked at the first waiting patron. She picked up a bottle and began to refill the young woman’s glass. “So tell me,” she said with a grin, “do you come here often?”

The woman smiled. “Yeah - twice a week. It’s the only place with decent music and _amazing_ supplies.”

Mazikeen put down the bottle before finding another one. She topped off the woman’s drink before leaning closer. “So you’d know Tina, right? The blonde model that comes in here?”

“Tina?” she asked. “No. Does she come a lot?”

“Yeah,” Mazikeen said, her smile fading. “Never mind.”

“Well if you want someone who would know, try Patrick,” she said brightly. “He knows _everyone_ in here. He’s over there, look.” She turned and pointed across the club to the sofas.

Mazikeen’s smile brightened. “Does he now. Well thanks.”

“Pleasure,” the woman smiled.

“Oh it will be,” Mazikeen said under her breath. She came out from behind the bar, aiming straight for Patrick.

 

 

ooOoo

 

The technician stood back from the test bench, shaking his head. He tapped at the keyboard next to him, the smooth latex of his protective gloves leaving smears on the plastic sheeting over the keys. “Resume notes for case number 3917. The feather looks real, and is exactly as you’d expect a black feather to look. However, several tests so far indicate no DNA content of any kind. Normally in birds we’d find this in the shaft, but here there is nothing. And yet, it registers as organic. Again, I cannot assign the organic material to any category or in fact kind - and I’ve spent a whole day on it. All I know is, this wasn’t a man-made item bought in a shop and yet it doesn’t seem to belong to any creature on record.”

He tapped the key again, then lifted his safety goggles and rubbed at an eye with the back of his hand.

Sighing, he let the glasses fall back into place before he turned back to the impressive array of testing equipment on the bench.

“Now… let me find _something_ before Decker comes back and I have to stand here and say ‘I don’t know’,” he muttered, running through his list of favourite tests, hoping the next one would yield something useful.

 

ooOoo

 

“Lieutenant!” Someone bashed on Olivia Monroe’s door.

She looked up. “What now?”

Detective Lopez rushed in. “Sidewalk death - one man.”

“What kind?” she asked, locking the laptop screen in front of her.

Lopez took a breath. “It’s Grant Waterstone.”

“What? As in multi-million-dollar-deals Grant Waterstone? Any idea what happened?”

“Not yet - witnesses say he jumped from the window on his floor. His personal assistant, Mark Winters, is talking to our first responders now.”

“Jesus.” Monroe ran her hand through her hair. “We’ll give it to Homicide for now until they can determine why.”

“Yes ma’am,” she said, turning back for the door. “Who do you want to take this?”

“Uh - who’s available?”

“Me,” she said nervously.

“Lopez… Do you seriously want this? A high profile, famous citizen like Waterstone… it’s going to be a media frenzy.”

“I’d like to take it, ma’am,” she nodded. “We’ll try to stall the media - and I can always come back for help, right?”

“Yes you can. Take it,” Monroe nodded. “Let me know the moment you have anything.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.” She sped back out of the door.

 

ooOoo

 

Decker rang the doorbell, standing back and looking out at the street. She looked around. “Weird.”

“What is?” Lucifer asked.

“What I can’t figure out is why Martin?”

“What I can’t figure out is why we’re bothering with the little gremlin when we have Jamie’s killer to find,” he said. “It’s obvious someone else in that alley killed that man.”

“I’ve checked on the best friend we had in custody - no motive. And seeing as we didn’t find any physical signs of attack, we’re waiting on an autopsy to tell us how Nathan King even died.” She looked him up and down. “Anyway, you’re getting two cases for the price of one, here. I thought you’d be happy.”

“Hardly. I don’t like people coming to my club and killing people.”

“Ngaw - you’ve got a soft spot for ‘us humans’?” she teased.

“It’s bad for business.”

She rang the doorbell again. “But why Martin - I mean, really? Why an ordinary kid on an ordinary street?”

“Serendipity.”

“What?”

“Seren—.” He tutted. “Helpful random happenstance.”

She folded her arms. “Yeah, well… I thought you were going to say ‘God did it’.”

“Why on Earth would I say that?”

“So you could say ‘don’t ask me why - he works in mysterious—’”

“Don’t,” he snapped, clearly irritated. “Do you know how perfectly hateful that whole ‘mysterious ways’ thing is?”

She smiled. “Wow. Two small words and you get pissed. Have I ruined your post-hook-up mood?”

“Because Dad does the same as every other _human_ father, in that He has no real idea what’s He’s doing because He’s as new to this parenting thing as every other. But when _He_ does something wrong, it’s—” He put his fingers up in air quotes “—‘mysterious ways’, as if it’s all part of some endgame that’s so huge no-one could hope to appreciate the bigger picture He apparently has.” His hands dropped. “Believe me, Detective, it isn’t. So unless every _other_ father in the universe gets to call his monumental _balls-ups_ ’mysterious ways’, neither does Dad.” He huffed.

Her eyebrows raised in surprise. “You need to see that shrink more.”

“We don’t meet any more.” He paused. “I just need a drink.”

“Spoken like a true rich kid who got cut off from his daddy’s inheritance.”

Lucifer didn’t reply. She looked at him and regretted it.

“Uh - sorry,” she said hastily. “That face - are you angry? Sad? Outraged? What?”

He scowled at the pavement. “I’m wondering why that alleyway spawn’s mother is not answering the door.”

She rolled her eyes and rang the doorbell again - and again. Then she knocked on the surround to the screen door.

“ ’Scuze me,” someone called.

They both turned. An older woman was wandering past the end of the path that joined the pavement. “Who are you looking for?”

Decker stepped down the path a way. “Uh - Mrs Boemicky. Do you know her?”

“Sure I do, I live next door,” she said. “She’s ain’t home though - she’s at the hospital.”

“Is she a nurse?” Decker asked. She wandered down the path to stop in front of the old lady.

“Nope. Her mother’s in there - not long to go, I reckon. My husband went the same way, God rest his soul.” She pushed large round glasses up her nose, looking past Decker for a second. “Phew. Who’s the stud with you?”

Decker just waited, knowing it was just a matter of time before Lucifer appeared over her shoulder. He did just that, having given up with the front door. “He’s a… consultant. With me. I’m LAPD,” she said, moving her jacket to show off the badge on her belt. “We brought Martin home yesterday - just wanted to make sure he was alright.”

“Well he didn’t go to school today, that’s what I saw,” she shrugged. She paused and then gawped up at something over Decker’s shoulder.

“Oh hello,” Lucifer said politely. “And who might you be?”

“The neighbour,” she beamed. “And you?”

“Lucifer. Morningstar,” he added, putting a hand out. She grinned and went to shake it, but he turned it over and kissed the back instead. “Charmed,” he said, with the utmost suave.

The woman blushed and brought her hand back. “Oh give over, you. I ain’t got long myself but you must be a quarter my age,” she blustered. “And it’s Lilian.”

“Age is just a number, and I can assure you that you have a long way to go,” he smiled and raised a wicked, knowing eyebrow. “Probably on account of all that gin, Lilian.”

She giggled. “Well I need something to make daytime TV exciting.” She looked up at him. “Unless you got any other tips for me?”

Lucifer opened his mouth, a dark twinkle to his eye. However, Decker’s resting face caught his attention and he cleared his throat. “Maybe another time. You were saying that Martin didn’t go to school today?”

“Oh yeah. Well as I was telling the officer here, Fran took Martin to the hospital. They’re waiting on her mother passing, God rest her soul.”

Lucifer’s arm twitched but Decker put a hand out and gripped his wrist. His protest died on his lips. “How… sad,” he managed, somewhat stiffly.

“Yeah, but then, it’s got to be a relief and all,” Lilian said. “Plus, dying of cancer ain’t cheap in this world. God really does love his irony, don’t he?”

Lucifer’s mouth opened but Decker again squeezed at his wrist. His teeth slapped shut unexpectedly.

“Thanks for the help, Lilian,” she said. “Maybe we’ll wait to speak to Mrs Boemicky - give her some space.”

“Well that would be kind of you,” Lilian said. “Some folks just don’t care enough, you know?”

“Well… thanks for your help,” she said.

“No bother.” She rippled her fingers at Lucifer, who gave her the widest, most indulgent smile Decker had ever seen. Lilian giggled, ran a hand through her hair, and walked on.

Decker immediately let go of his arm, instead walking on past the car to get in the driver’s side. Lucifer ambled up to the passenger seat and climbed in.

“Where to now?” he asked.

“The station. I want to know why it’s taking forensics so long to give us something on that feather you grabbed.”

 

ooOoo

 

Lopez balanced the manila files on top of the wide, black coffee machine. Her hands now free, she went through her pockets for loose change. She eventually came out with enough for the machine to grudgingly produce a steaming cup of its worst sense of humour, and she slapped a plastic lid on it before rescuing it from the drip tray.

She reclaimed the files and carried both them and the drink back to the open-plan office. “Hey, these are for you,” she said, holding the folder out.

Decker looked up from her desk. “Thanks. What are you on?”

“I got the Waterstone suicide from this afternoon,” she said. “It’s Homicide until proven otherwise.”

“Big case. You ok with that?” Decker asked.

“I want to be,” Lopez said with a smile.

Decker nodded. “Well you know where I am if you want help. My first homicide was rough.”

“Thanks.”

Decker dropped the files over the stills of older women in clubs and opened it up. “Jamie Reyes - they did an autopsy?”

“Looks like,” Lopez said, taking her seat across the room. “Her cousin wasn’t going to allow it, but then suddenly she called this morning and - bam! - she’s ok for them to proceed.”

“Any idea why she changed her mind?” Decker asked, pre-occupied. Her eyes went over the typed report.

“She mentioned a ‘letting go’ process. Sounds like shrink-talk to me.”

Decker paused, looked up, and then shook her head. She went back to reading. “Cardiac arrest. She died from cardiac arrest?” She reached under and picked up the other file, reading through it. “And Nathan King - they did the autopsy already? He died from…” Her eyes scanned the info. “Son of a bitch. He died from an undiagnosed tumour in his brain.”

“You mean no homicides after all?” Lopez asked. “Damn. Well that was a couple of days wasted, I guess. Still, you got to hang out at Morningstar’s club a little. Looks fancy.”

Decker snorted. “Yeah. Lots of officers and booze when I was on duty. Great.” She slapped both folders shut. “So that’s it - I’m off the case. They’re not homicides any more.”

“Are you going to tell Morningstar that?”

“Are you kidding? He’s like a puppy that needs a new chew toy - one of these days I’m going to have to ram a shoe in his mouth to give him something to keep it occupied,” Decker scoffed. Lopez cleared her throat loudly but Decker continued. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s making up reasons to come back here just to poke his nose in, totally unaware that he suffers from Jerry McGuire syndrome, like he just cannot be alone for one—”

Lopez got up suddenly, scraping her chair noisily. Decker looked up, annoyed, but then realised Lopez was looking past Decker’s shoulder. She screwed her eyes shut for a second, then turned and looked behind her. Lucifer was standing watching her, his hands clasped in front of him, wearing a far-too-polite smile that fooled no-one.

“Oh. Hi,” Decker managed. She got up. “Autopsies.”

“Wonderful,” he said evenly, his smile never wavering.

“ _Not_ wonderful,” she said. “I’m off the case, Lucifer - it’s not murder.”

“What?” his face dropped. “No no no - if _you’re_ off the case then _I’m_ off the case. _I_ can’t be off the case!”

“Nathan King and Jamie Reyes? They’re not murders - we’ve got nothing,” she said. “Once I show this to the Lieutenant, it’ll all get pushed to another department and we get to go home.”

His expression took on the texture and emotion of bad ham. “Well this won’t do. What about the feather?”

“Feather?” Lopez asked critically.

“I have the report here - it’s not organic but it’s not _not_ organic,” she said.

“What does that even mean?” Lopez asked.

Lucifer’s face went dark and he looked up as if the news were printed in small letters on the ceiling tiles.

“Decker?” came a shout.

Lucifer and Decker looked round to see an officer poking his head round the jamb to the office. “Decker? Lady here to speak to you - a Mrs Fran Boemicky?”

“Yeah - got it,” she called back. She looked at Lucifer. “You - stay.”

“Charming,” he tutted, but he did plonk himself into her empty chair as she walked off. He felt attention on the side of his face and turned right round to appraise Lopez. “Something I can do for you?”

“Uh - n-no,” she managed, in a very small voice.

“Oh come now - be honest,” he grinned, an evil twinkle to his eye.

She swallowed and picked up her coffee. “Case,” she blurted, and walked off as fast as was polite.

He sighed and swivelled back to the desk.

—And jumped in shock as he found a small boy staring at him from the other edge. “Gah! Alley-spawn!” he blurted. “What do you want?”

Martin tilted his head to watch him. “Hey, mister. My mom’s talking to your friend. She thinks I’m with the police officer at the desk.” He leant closer and smiled. “But I’m not.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Lucifer said with distaste, leaning back in the chair in an attempt to keep distance between them. “What is it you want?”

“To see a police station,” he shrugged. He wandered round the desk to stand next to his chair. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Waiting for the Detective to come back,” he said testily. “Shouldn’t you go back to your mother?”

“Nah - she’s busy talking. She’s mad that the teachers let me go, but your friend is telling her she spoke to my school principal.”

“Right.” He reached out for a manila folder, lifting it on the pretence of being far too busy to listen any further.

Martin’s hand went out and he slid a large black and white photo towards himself across the desk. “That’s her.”

“Who ‘her’?” Lucifer asked.

“The lady that said I could leave school with her.”

Lucifer closed the folder and dumped it on the desk. He caught sight of a sketch in black, or perhaps its digital copy. “Well of course it is - this is the sketch the officer did of Michael Beck’s description. Deary me, you really are more remedial than I thought,” he tutted.

“Not the sketch,” Martin said innocently. “The photo.” He reached out and tapped a black and white still on the desk.

Lucifer snatched up the picture and shot to his feet. “Stay here,” he barked. He took off toward the corridor.

He rounded the bend and strode along, not caring who was stopping to watch him. Another bend and he was hurrying down the corridor to find which interview room down it was occupied.

He spotted a familiar head through the glass of a security window and simply whammed the door open. “Detective!” he cried excitedly. Something yanked at his suit and he looked down. And jumped. “Gah! Stop doing that!”

Martin chuckled. “You’re like a cartoon man,” he said, jiggling Lucifer’s jacket pocket. “I like you - you’re funny.”

Lucifer pinched a delicate thumb and finger around Martin’s wrist and simply pulled him off. “Stay,” he commanded. He looked up again at the two women in the room. “Detective? Word, please,” he prompted.

Decker sighed and got up from the table. “I’m sorry, Mrs Boemicky - will you give me a minute?”

“Yeah,” Fran said irritably. “Martin - come here. Leave that poor man alone.”

Martin ran in and hugged her, and Decker passed them to get to the door. She put her hands into Lucifer’s chest and pushed until he was outside. The door swung shut behind her. “What is it _now?_ ”

His face was a study in an imminent joy explosion. “I really think you should see this!” He turned the black and white photo around.

Decker scowled. “So? So what? It’s the woman from the footage in your club.”

“Martin says that it’s the woman _who took him from school_.” He held out the still. She lifted it from his fingers and stared at it. “Well?” he asked. “Do we have enough of a connection _now_ to find out why this woman is at the scene of the ‘accidental deaths’ of two people _and_ kidnapped Martin?”

“Three people.” They both turned to see Lopez behind them. She lifted a police report. “Grant Waterstone jumped from his thirty-third floor office onto the sidewalk this afternoon. And the last people to see him alive were his P.A. and the woman in that photo.”

Lucifer and Decker looked at each other.

Lopez’s face turned hopeful. “Want to work together?”

 

 


	5. Pleasures of the Flesh

 

 

The three of them sat around the desk, the window blinds closed to the open-plan office outside.

Lopez opened up the three crime scene photos, putting them next to each other. “Right, so here’s what we have so far… First death is Nathan King in an alleyway. This woman just happens to be passing with Martin, who says she spoke to Nathan. Michael says she warned him to ‘fess up to something - which is weird to say the least.” She put a finger on the next photo. “Then it’s Jamie Reyes in Mr Morningstar’s club - and this woman is caught on tape talking with Jamie before she dies. She talks to her cousin Ava, too - who says the woman told her to make peace with Jamie before it was too late.” She looked at the next one. “Then Grant Waterstone. His P.A. says that this woman came into her office without an appointment, but just started talking at them both. According to the P.A., Mark Winters, they thought talking to her would be a good idea, so they did. She was telling them to get over some old business deal that Waterstone had backed out of. Suddenly Waterstone’s outside the window and jumping to his death.” She paused to look at Decker. “Only, here’s the thing: the windows—”

“The windows don’t open,” Decker gasped.

“Right,” Lopez said, pointing at her. “So how did he get _outside_ the window, and why did he think jumping to his death was a good idea?”

Decker looked up at Lucifer, who seemed quite far away. “Any ideas, Mr I-Hypnotise-People-With-My-Voice?” she asked deliberately.

He blinked as if calling himself back to the room. Then he turned his head to meet her eyes. “I don’t hypnotise anyone,” he said, somewhat stiffly. Then he got up, walking away toward the windows.

Lopez raised her eyebrows in polite ignorance of his little cloud of annoyance. “What do you think we should do next?” she asked.

Decker studied the photos again. “I think we need to find this woman - right now.”

Lucifer turned suddenly. He snapped his fingers twice. “Phone please, Detective.”

Decker looked over. “Excuse me?”

“What? I said _please_ ,” he tutted.

“I thought you had a cell phone,” she said.

“That one wasn’t mine.”

She looked at him; just looked. Then she pulled her phone out, unlocked it, and tossed it to him. He caught it one-handed and dialled quickly, turning back to the windows. Lopez and Decker waited, watching him.

“Hello Maze,” he said with more of his customary unctuousness. “Anything on this Tina woman?” He paused. “Excellent. Nothing other-worldly about her? No? Then it’s someone she’s controlling. Oh I have a very good idea what it is, dear.” He paused. “Not nearly. Be a love and sit tight until we get there, alright? Well Detective Decker, of course - and we have a new friend, Detective—.” He covered the bottom of the phone suddenly, turning back to look at Lopez. “Sorry - what’s your name?”

Lopez swallowed. “Uh… Lopez.”

“No, your _name_ , darling.”

“Maria,” she blurted. Then she clamped her mouth shut. She looked at Decker. ‘ _How does he do that?_ ’ she mouthed.

Lucifer turned back to the window. “Detective Maria Lopez. Yes, absolutely delightful - and quite smart for a human. You’re about to get on like a house on fire. Mmm, I _know_ \- think of the possibilities. Ok then. Ciao.” He cut the call and turned back to them. “Well, far be it for me to get ahead of you two professionals on this case, but I do have something of a lead,” he beamed.

“You do?” Decker asked.

“Yes. Maze has quite a bit of dirt on Tina, back at my club,” he grinned. “Shall we?” He tossed the phone back at Decker, who caught it more out of surprise than skill.

“Tina _the ex-girlfriend of Jamie Reyes_ Tina?” she asked. “How the hell did she—”

“Maze is simply fantastic at her job,” he said. “Well? Let’s go then - chop-chop.”

Lopez shot to her feet, already at the door as Lucifer opened it for her. She went out as Decker reached the door and paused to look up at him. “And when we talk to Mazikeen about Tina and find that no-one knows this mystery killer woman?”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said, his smile dying.

She nodded and walked out.

 

ooOoo

 

The club was loud and vibrant as always. The three of them made their way through the people to the bar, whereupon Lucifer found Mazikeen behind the counter, looking less than happy.

“Well, Maze?” he asked with a broad smile. “What do you know?”

“I know Tina comes here all the time,” she said. She eyed the two women by his side. She lingered on Lopez. “Hi.”

“Uh - hi,” Lopez managed in surprise.

“Don’t tell me that’s it,” Lucifer said.

“No - the person who knows _everything_ about Tina is a man called Patrick. We had a chat,” Mazikeen said.

“And?” Lucifer pressed.

Mazikeen rolled her eyes. “We talked. Patrick wasn’t very forthcoming, so…” She leant across the bar and put her hand to the back of his head. He leant forwards for her to whisper in his ear.

“Oh, Maze,” he sighed, pulling away just enough to find her eyes. “When will you learn that sharp knives are not _always_ the answer?”

“When Hell freezes over,” she said with a wicked smile.

He smiled back, his eyes flicking down her face.

“Look, are you going to tell us where to find this Patrick or just get a room?” Decker asked from behind him.

Mazikeen let him go so he could straighten up again. She looked at Decker, then Lopez. “How about you three get a room and chill the hell out while I get back to tending the bar?”

“What a _splendid_ idea!” Lucifer grinned.

“No,” Decker warned, pointing at him. “No no no no - and how many times - no.”

Lopez was gazing at him, her mouth opening slowly.

Decker knocked her in the arm. “And she says ‘no’ too.”

“But her mouth didn’t move,” Lucifer said with a sly smile.

“You’ve had enough threesomes this year, and we have work to do,” Decker said.

His eyebrows banded together to help his face pull a perfectly-executed Adorable Puppy expression. “But I haven’t even had _one_ this week - honestly, it’s making me cranky,” he said plaintively.

Decker looked at Mazikeen, who was trying her hardest not to laugh. “Can you tell me where Patrick is, please?” she asked.

Mazikeen cleared her throat. “Hospital. He was a _bad_ boy.”

“What?” Decker asked, her voice stern.

Mazikeen put both hands up. “He wanted me to, I swear. Ask him.”

“I will,” Decker said. She took Lopez’s arm and pulled her away, toward the stairs.

Lucifer leant an elbow on the bar, grinning at Mazikeen with perfect smuttiness. “Naughty,” he oozed.

She winked.

He laughed and walked off, following the ladies through the crowd and up the stairs to the exit.

 

ooOoo

 

Fran pulled Martin’s little coat tighter, zipping it up. “Now stay with me, ok? This might be the last time we see Grandma, and we have a lot to say to her, right?”

“Will you read her a story again, Mom?” he asked.

She took his hand. “Maybe, sweetie. We just need to say what we feel, ok? Like how much we love her and we’re going to miss her.” She sniffed a suddenly congested nose. “Oh, I didn’t bring any tissues.”

“I have some,” he said. “You put some in my pocket before we left home.”

“Oh of course I did,” she said, pulling him to walk with her. “Silly Mommy.”

“It’s ok, Mom,” he said sadly. “You’re just trying to think of too many things all the time. It’s ok.”

She squeezed his hand as she walked them inside the hospital. They turned left just inside and walked through the corridors, coming across a quieter one with private rooms.

Fran opened the door and looked in. “Mom,” she whispered.

A single bed in the middle of the room was cradling an older woman, half-asleep and half waiting. Her head turned a little toward the door. “Franny,” she smiled.

“Hi, Mom,” she said. “Martin and I wanted to sit with you.”

“Hi Grandma,” he said quietly.

The woman seemed unable to speak, so Fran pulled Martin into the room with her. She sat on the chair by the bed, guiding Martin to stand in front of her.

“Martin insisted on coming to see you,” Fran smiled. She put a hand out and squeezed her mother’s hand on the bedcovers. “We’re here, Mom. We’re all here.” She felt a tear run down her face, but it didn’t matter. “Martin has something he wants to say to you, Mom.”

 

ooOoo

 

Decker knocked firmly on the hospital room door. She opened it to find a man in the bed in the middle, currently staring at the ceiling. “Mr Hammond?” she asked. “Patrick Hammond?”

He looked over. “Who’s asking?”

She walked in, followed by Lopez and Lucifer. “LAPD,” she said, flashing her badge. “We’d like to ask you about a little accident you had at a nightclub this evening?”

“Accident?” Patrick spluttered. His eyes caught Lucifer’s and he let out a tiny gasp. “Uh - sure, yeah. What do you want to know?”

Lucifer sat on the edge of his bed suddenly, putting a hand on the opposite edge to lean over him. He kept a discreet distance from Patrick, but it did nothing to alleviate the tension to Patrick’s frame. “Hello,” Lucifer oiled. “You know I own the club, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Patrick said.

“Lucifer, get up,” Decker sighed.

“Minute, Detective,” he said, his eyes till set firmly on Patrick’s. “This lovely man wants to tell me something. Don’t you, Patrick?”

“I do?” Patrick managed.

“Well of course,” Lucifer smiled. “You want to tell me all about Tina, from the club. Right?”

“Uh… I’m not sure that I—”

“Oh come now,” Lucifer teased. “It’s right on the tip of your tongue, isn’t it? You’re _dying_ to tell me. Get it off your chest, mate, tell me what you know. It’s what you want to do anyway, isn’t it?”

Patrick’s mouth worked. He took a quick breath. “Tina - her name’s Tina Rachett. She used to date this knock-out called Jamie and - and - and she had a deal with that guy who jumped out the window today.”

“Grant Waterstone?” Lopez asked. “What kind of deal?”

“I don’t know,” Patrick said, staring right at Lucifer. “But she came in one night saying she was starting a new venture, and Waterstone was going to back it for her - he was made of money. Then when he pulled out a few weeks later, she came in to drown her sorrows. I saw her get totally wasted, man - until one of your bartenders cut her off, put her in a cab. That’s the last time I saw her, I swear.”

Lucifer leant back suddenly. “Well well well,” he said to himself. He turned to look over at Decker. “So this Tina was directly connected to _two_ people who pissed her off. I wonder how she was connected to Nathan.”

“Nathan?” Patrick said. “Tall black dude, always hanging with his best friend?”

“That’s an apt description,” Lucifer said. He turned back to him. “What do you know?”

“Well Tina dated him too - till he dumped her a few years back. He said it was over some old arrest and how she was still so sore about it.”

“You knew Nathan too?” Decker asked.

“He came to the club a few times - one time he warned me off Tina, told me she was damaged goods,” Patrick said.

Lucifer’s smile faded. His eyes glittered with some dark intent. “Damaged goods. How absolutely judgey of you. My Father taught you that, I suppose?”

“Lucifer,” Decker warned. “Patrick - this Tina. What did you say her name was again?”

“Rachett,” Patrick said. “Aren’t you going to ask me about why I’m in here?”

“Why _are_ you in here?” Lopez asked.

“That bartender, man - she’s like…” He paused. “I mean, it was incredible - I ain’t never had sex like that, but… I got hairline _rib_ fractures, man - _rib fractures_.”

“You’re welcome,” Lucifer said with an evil grin. He got up and went to the door. “I think we have all we need here. Let’s leave this poor man to heal, shall we?”

Decker pulled out her phone. “I’ll get them to run a trace on this Tina Rachett’s record,” she said as she went out of the door. “Thank you for your time, Mr Hammond,” she said. He nodded and she ducked out after Lucifer. Lopez turned back to Patrick with her notebook, finding a fresh page.

Lucifer hovered outside the door. Decker was texting something, totally absorbed.

“You know what we have here, don’t you?” he said mildly.

“A man who Mazikeen put in the hospital through some kind of sex game gone wrong?” she hazarded.

“A harbinger,” he said.

“A what?” She locked her phone and looked up at him.

He watched a doctor and an orderly walk past. “A harbinger. They appear in times of great stress, to anyone they think needs to attend to things with a loved one before they die.”

“Since when?”

“Oh they haven’t been going long - only a few thousand years.”

“Oh right,” she nodded. “Yeah - that’s not long at all.”

He turned his head to watch her. “You’re laughing at me.”

“Yes,” she said clearly.

“You’re not still upset because of the whole Brad and Brad thing, are you? You never did answer me. Are you just miffed it’s not you?”

“Hardly,” she scoffed. “You know, it’s strange - if Jamie had seen _you_ at the club, maybe she wouldn’t have started dating this Tina woman.”

“Not necessarily,” he said, surprised. “You’re assuming she plays for all teams. A lot of people don’t. You, for example.”

“I thought ‘every woman’ was supposed to fall for your ‘charms’?” she said with a shit-eating grin.

“Not every woman, Detective - just those susceptible to certain desires.”

“Even some lesbians?”

“Some.”

“Hmm. So is this where we debate where sexuality comes from, and what percentage of you makes up what you want?”

“If you like,” he said with a broad smile. “Did you know that sixty-six percent of human males’ first sexual encounter is with another male present?”

“Really?” she asked with a chuckle.

“Oh yes. Animalistic bunch. Half are showmen, the others just don’t care.”

She chuckled. “And the ‘human females’?”

“Ah,” he said, his eyes shining. “A very special lot, you women.” He paused to tilt his head at her. “Tell me Detective, have you ever had the pleasure?”

“With a woman? No,” she said dismissively.

“But you’ve thought about it.”

“Uhm… not that I can recall,” she said.

He appraised her, then raised his eyebrows. “Well take it from one who knows - you’re missing out.”

“Wow. Ok then,” she said flatly. “You really are full of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Experience,” he shrugged, as if it should be obvious. “I mean, I wouldn’t begrudge you knowing all about the differences between sizes and striation patterns on bullet casings, because I know you have experience in that area.”

“And you want me to believe you have formidable knowledge of sex with just about everyone?”

“My dear Detective,” he grinned, “I don’t _want_ you to believe anything. Free will, love. You’re supposed to think about it for yourself.”

She shook her head, smiling. “Thanks.”

“Oh you’re very welcome.”

Lopez appeared from the room, closing the door behind her. “Well he’s adamant that he is _not_ pressing charges against Mazikeen.”

“Why on Earth would he want to do that?” Lucifer asked, aghast.

Lopez and Decker shared a glance, before Decker turned and walked off down the corridor. Lucifer pushed himself off the wall and went after her, Lopez catching up and keeping stride.

“So you can just get anyone to answer you, right?” she asked.

“Well not _everyone_ ,” Lucifer said. “Detective Decker, for example. She seems immune.”

“Maybe because she has a daughter,” Lopez said.

“What does that mean?” Lucifer asked, fascinated.

“Well children have a way of seeing through your crap, y’know? There’s no magic in Christmas when you have to explain how Mommy and Daddy are living apart because Daddy is being an ass.”

“Oh so _that’s_ what happened,” Lucifer grinned at her. He put his hands in his pockets. “The Detective doesn’t tell me anything.”

“That’s because it’s her own, private business,” Decker said from in front of them.

“Spoilsport,” he called at her. He glanced at Lopez. “You, though. If you had something juicy to tell me, you would, wouldn’t you?”

“Anything you want,” she breathed.

He grinned as they went round a corner. “Well, I’m sure we could find something that you could—.” His mouth stopped dead as something through the window to his right caught his eye. “Uh. Detective.”

“I’m not listening to whatever proposition you think you have,” Decker called over her shoulder.

“No really - _Detective_.” He lurched forward and grabbed her arm. She pulled it from his grip immediately but she did turn and look.

He was already retracing their steps with urgency. The officers looked at each other and all but shrugged. They hurried after him as he went back down the corridor to go down a different bend, that was visible from behind two large windows.

He stopped dead, pointing down the other end of the corridor.

—At the woman peering in through the leaded glass of a hospital room.

“You there!” he called.

“It’s the woman from the security footage,” Lopez realised.

The woman turned and stared directly at Lucifer. She gasped in horror and backed away.

“Stop!” Decker called. She began to walk toward her, her hands out to show they were empty.

But the woman turned as if about to run.

“Halt!” Lucifer called. His voice went through everyone’s bones in a way that had nothing to do with volume and everything to do with soul-vibrating bass. Lopez and Decker noticeably shivered at the feel.

The woman froze, breathing hard, turned away from them. Lucifer walked forward slowly, tilting his head from his greater height, straining to see her face even as he came up behind her.

He put a hand out to turn her around.

Decker and Lopez hurried to catch him up. They squeaked to a stop just as she turned. Lucifer let her go and took a step back in shock.

They looked from him to the woman.

She raised her head as if she _really_ didn’t want to. She looked him in the eye. “My Lord,” she said, physically trembling.

A breath of whisper passed his lips: “Sister.”

 


	6. My Sister's Keeper

 

 

The front room of the apartment was quiet, still. However, the doorway through to the kitchen was party to someone attempting to give the entire block a rendition of a Lady Gaga track. The someone in question took a fresh beer from the fridge and unscrewed the lid, tossing it into the garbage and walking out into the front room.

A warm glow suddenly emanated from the metal box on the coffee table. She hurried over and ripped it open. “What are you doing?” she asked in horror. She looked around desperately before she raced over to her bookcase. She yanked a large book down and paged through. “What to do when it glows…” She flipped and read, dashed through and scanned. “No! Just tell me what I need to know!”

She dropped the book and instead went to the laptop underneath the magazines on the coffee table. She opened it up and began to play with the keys. Eventually she set it down on the table next to the box and its shining item within. “So… there’s another one close by,” she muttered, her eyes racing over the text. “But… it can’t interfere. Well good.”

She closed the laptop and sat back. She studied the item in the box.

“So… if we have another one on the loose, maybe… I should cut you in half. Y’know, for insurance.”

She grinned and plucked the item from the box carefully. Then she went to the kitchen and found her best scissors.

 

ooOoo

 

Decker looked around them. “Alright - let’s take this to the station, shall we?”

“Don’t touch her,” Lucifer ordered.

Decker jumped in surprise. “Ok - calm down. But she’s responsible for three deaths and we can’t just—”

Lucifer turned on her so fast Decker took a step back. “No, she’s not,” he said, his face battling the anger he was obviously feeling. “She can’t be. It’s impossible.”

“My Lord, I seek your help,” the woman whimpered. She fell to one knee, her hands splayed out either side of her, her head going down.

“Uh - you might want to get up,” Lopez said. “This is really not the place.”

Lucifer glared at Lopez for a long moment. Then he appeared to pull himself together. Buttoning up his jacket, he turned back to the woman, cleared his throat, and crouched down. He took her hand. She squeezed it immediately. “Rise, Sister,” he said simply, but again the vibrations that went through everyone made them tingle.

The woman got to her feet, her head still down. “Forgive me, my Lord, I beseech you. I petition for your help.”

He kept hold of her hand, but looked off to one side. “Follow me.”

He pulled and they walked off to a door. He opened it up, found it an empty storeroom, and pulled her inside. Decker and Lopez stormed after him, getting through the door before he had a chance to close them out.

Decker shut the door behind them and leant back on it. “What’s going on? Lucifer, do you _know_ this woman? You called her ‘sister’.”

The woman was keeping her head down, but by the sound of her she was close to tears. He came forward and put his hands to her face gently, lifting it. His face crumbled into stricken worry. “What have you done?” he whispered. “Tell me this wasn’t you, Sister.”

“But it was,” she said, tears on her face. “I have been broken, my Lord. You must destroy me to make amends. It is the only punishment.”

He bent his knees slightly to stoop, to meet her eyes. His face was one of desperate heartbreak. “I could not destroy you,” he breathed. “How has this happened? What have you done?”

Lopez took a step forward, but Decker put an arm across her to stop her. Lopez looked at her, surprised. Decker just shook her head.

The woman was trying not to cry and failing. The other two women could see her trembling at Lucifer’s touch. “A human, my Lord. I have been trapped by a human. I was not aware, I did not know of such things. But it is my fault, my Lord, and I await my punishment.”

Something changed in Lucifer’s face. His eyes hardened, his heartbreak melted into barely-controlled fury. “Who has done this to you?” he growled. “Who _dares_ do this to my sister?”

She sobbed, unable to speak.

“Tell me!” he raged. “Tell me and I shall rend them _limb from limb!_ ”

Lopez’s hand sneaked down to the button over her gun without her thinking. Decker knocked her arm, making her let go.

“A human, my Lord,” the woman blurted. “A woman. She has one of my feathers! She uses it to keep me contained! It _hurts!_ ”

He let her go only to put his arms round her. She fell against him and cried. His left arm around her, keeping her up, his right hand went to her hair to stroke it affectionately as he ‘ssh’ed her gently.

Decker stared, unable to look away from the entirely unexpected sight. Lopez bit her lip, looking first at Decker, then over at the pair. “Uh, we’re arresting her now, right?” she said quietly.

Lucifer whispered something in the woman’s ear. Then he glanced behind the two women. “Door,” he said.

Decker and Lopez turned to look behind them. Something made a loud _whoosh_ before they felt a sudden overwhelming gust of wind around them. When they turned, the room was short of one man and one woman.

“God _damn_ ,” Lopez breathed, looking around. She went to each wall in the small room, touching at them, testing their solidity, before she turned and looked back at Decker. “Where the hell did they go? And how?” she asked, her hands out in complete surrender.

Decker’s face went dark with anger. She turned, ripped the door open, and marched out.

Lopez ran to catch up.

 

ooOoo

 

The two of them landed, quite silently, on the roof of the hospital. Lucifer let her go, standing back one.

“Your wings?” she asked, fear on her face. “They are gone, my Lord?”

“They are,” he said softly. “Thanks for the lift. —And you don’t have to call me ‘my Lord’ - not up here.”

She swallowed, her hands going out to the lapels on his suit jacket. She smoothed them straight gently. “So… different, down here. Everything is… so strange.”

“It is,” he said, his smile fading. “You’re not in trouble, Sororisel. Not with me, not with the humans - not with anyone.”

“But my Lord—”

“Ah ah ah,” he said with a serious nod.

“But you are still the Lord of Hell, no matter where you are.”

“Well that aside, whilst we’re up here it’s just plain ‘Lucifer’, ok?”

“Lucifer,” she mused, as if trying it on for size.

“Now, tell me what’s happened. Let me help. How have you been contained? And by a human?”

She let him go and backed away. “I am so ashamed, my—. Lucifer. I have been contained against my will, I have been unable to find a way out - I turned my back to you in the hallway! And whilst trapped I have… I have taken… souls.”

“What?” he gasped. He put a hand to his midriff, as if completely winded. “Souls? How?”

“The one who contains me - she has a list of souls that I must convert or reap. They would not convert. I was compelled to reap.” She closed her eyes. “It _hurts_ , my Lord. Every second I am forced to stay down here, away from home, jammed into this crude form - it _hurts_.”

He crossed to her quickly, taking her hand. “Tell me who is doing this, Sister. I’ll do a little reaping of my own and you’ll be free.”

She looked up at him. “I do not know her name. She befriended me at first. I was here for poor Martin, Fran, and Beth. Everything was fine - Martin and Fran are connecting with Beth now, and she will pass in peace.” She paused as if to regroup. “And then this human, she… she saw me in this hospital. She took one of my feathers. When next I saw her, she used words, ancient words…” She shook her head. “I did not know that humans could be so…”

“Devious?” he hazarded. “It’s not your fault, Sororisel. We’ll find this woman and we’ll break her containment. She has _no idea_ who’s coming for her now. _No-one_ hurts my sister, Sororisel - _no-one_.”

She bowed her head at the anger in his voice. When she looked up, it was into the slow-burning red eyes she remembered. “You are different down here, Lucifer. You are friends with humans, and you take this form. I did not recognise you until…” Her head went down again. “I showed my back to you. For that I deserve to burn.”

“You most certainly do _not_ ,” he said firmly. She looked up and found his eyes still bright red. “That’s my Dad’s bag, not mine. I never wanted worship, and never from one of us.” He paused, the red of his eyes fading. “Listen to me, Sister - the only person who deserves to burn is this human who’s trapped you. With your help we can find out who it is. Agreed?”

“You _ask_ for my participation?” she asked, surprised. “I must obey your commands as always, my Lord.”

“Ah ah ah—”

“Lucifer,” she said. “You have changed, Brother. So much.”

“Yes, well. Hanging around with humans - good ones - will do that to you.” He sighed, rubbing at her arm with affection. “Now I have to smooth things over with the humans before I can use your help. Is there a place you can hide from this woman?”

“But she will know I am hiding,” she said, her face going white with fear. “She will summon me, rip me across the ether to her as she has done before.”

The red crept back into his eyes as his mouth sealed shut. “Then you should pretend that nothing has happened, that you haven’t seen me and nothing has deviated from her plan.”

“You want me to carry on as if I don’t know you are here?”

“Exactly. Pretend _nothing_ has happened. When I need you, I’ll find you. And then we’ll speak to this human about setting you free, and how she’d like her eternal burn setting in Hell - hot and searing or just really really painfully crispy.”

Sororisel _smiled_ , putting a hand out to take his. “I have missed you.”

“And I’ve missed _you_ , Sister.”

“You have no wings, now,” she said edgily. “I must take you where you want to go.”

“No,” he said, wobbling their hands. “You go. I need the walk. It’ll give me time to think.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

He opened his mouth but she smiled and her wings spread. He stood back to watch, impressed by the span and the power as she stroked up and was gone.

“I miss being able to do that,” he sighed. And then he turned and headed for the door off the roof.

 

ooOoo

 

Decker typed at her laptop, pausing to turn the page on her notes beside her. She sniffed and carried on typing.

The doorbell rang. She paused, thought about it, and then picked up her glass of red wine and sipped it. Then she went back to typing.

The doorbell rang again. And then someone knocked. “Detective! It’s me!”

“I know!” she called. “That’s why I’m not opening the door!”

There was a rattle and suddenly the door opened.

She jumped and looked over. “How dare you! What are you doing?” she demanded.

He waited outside the threshold. “Look, I’m sorry,” he said, his hands out toward her. “Will you let me explain? I know you’re angry that I ran off with a suspect, but I _promise_ there’s a really good reason!”

“There better be, or so help me, Lucifer Morningstar, I will batter you to death with the laptop I’m trying to write the report about tonight on!” she seethed.

He kept his hands out in surrender, then looked down at the threshold. “May I come in?”

She folded her arms. “If I said no, would you seriously stand there all night?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, lifting a foot. Suddenly he paused, and put the shoe back down where it had started. “But I wouldn’t barge in, either.”

She huffed. “Ok, come in. I do really want to know what the hell happened tonight.”

“And I want to tell you.” He stepped over the mat, closing her front door behind him. He took a deep breath and let his hands slide into his pockets. “So…”

“Start at the beginning,” she ordered.

“Do you have anything to drink?”

She paused. “Are you ok? You look… tired.” She blinked. “And I’ve never seen you tired before.”

“Drained would be a good word,” he sighed. “Where’s your little ape?”

“Monkey,” she said, biting back a smile. “She’s at her father’s tonight. Special treat.”

“If you call _that_ a treat,” he muttered.

“Look, I’m… I know you called her ‘sister’ and everything but… I just have _so many_ questions.”

“I can imagine,” he said. “But we should work fast - I need to get you on my side and then we can save her from this human.”

“Save who?”

“Well my sister, of course,” he said, turning back to the door. “Let’s—”

“No!” she cried angrily. “Just once, for the love of God, will you tell me—”

“I will do absolutely _nothing_ for the love of Him, Detective,” he snapped. “However, out of love for my sister… I’m prepared to do a lot, none of which you’ll condone.”

She pointed to the wooden chairs around the table hosting her laptop. “Sit.”

He surveyed the table and chairs, then turned and walked through to the lounge room. “Soft things. Much better.” He sank into an armchair as if he were physically melting.

She picked up the bottle of wine on the table and her glass, following him through. She put her glass on the coffee table and turned to the cabinet behind her, taking down another glass. She filled this with a generous measure and planted it directly in front of him. “Now talk,” she warned. She sat down and picked up her glass, sipping it in the hope that it would strengthen her patience for the next few minutes.

He picked up the glass, sniffed it, and then sipped it carefully. “Ooh, not bad, actually.”

“Some of us follow recommendations for wine,” she said. “Now come on, spill - if you want me to not arrest you for aiding and abetting a suspect.”

“Ok, where do I start?” he asked himself. She kept her mouth shut, determined not to distract him. He waved a finger at her as he took another mouthful of wine. “Sororisel is my sister. Her job is to mend relationships.”

“Job?”

“Well, purpose, I suppose. She was created to do just that - and she’s very good at it. She meets humans, encourages them to make up with their loved ones, so that when one of them dies a short time later, they’re at peace.” He sipped again.

“Like Ava was saying - the old woman was trying to get her to stop arguing with her cousin Jamie before she killed her,” Decker realised.

“That’s just it, Detective - Sororisel doesn’t _kill_. She can’t - it’s forbidden. I might have fallen, but she hasn’t. She still does as she’s told, still knocks about Upstairs and does as Dad tells her. For her to just swan about bumping humans off is like… is like you tying a child to a railway track ready for the four-fifteen to Arkansas - she just wouldn’t do it.” He sighed, then lifted the glass and had more wine.

“How is she—. Look, you know I have to ask.”

“Ask what?” he said innocently.

“How is she your sister? I mean, if you’re really Lucifer, then… I didn’t know angels - even fallen ones - had sisters.”

He smiled wearily, letting his head fall back against the chair. He rolled it round to appraise her. “You don’t believe me, do you? You don’t believe I’m the Devil, you don’t believe she’s an angel, and you don’t believe she’s being forced to reap people under duress.”

“I can believe that last part,” she said. “But… the jury’s still out on the rest.”

“Have I ever lied to you?” he asked quietly.

She frowned. “Uh… I’d have to think.”

“No you wouldn’t. You know, Detective. Come on. Just once, tell me if you believe me or not.”

She gazed at him, wondering if he really was as exhausted as he looked. “I don’t believe you’d lie to me,” she said slowly. “But… I just can’t bring myself to believe that you’re the Devil, either. Sorry.”

“I’ll take it,” he said, sipping his wine. “Being believed is better than what I probably am, anyway.”

“You’re a brother concerned for his sister,” she said. “I can see that. But… you were angry. _Insanely_ angry. Detective Lopez was freaked out enough for her hand to hover over her weapon.”

“Why didn’t she draw her weapon?” he asked.

“I stopped her.”

“So you weren’t freaked out at all?”

“I… I don’t know what I was. But I know that I felt you weren’t going to hurt anyone. I don’t know why, but I knew you wouldn’t.”

“Nobody in that room was in any danger,” he said. “However, when I find who’s done this to Sororisel, they will be in several kinds of danger of varying degrees of Hellishness.”

She frowned. “You didn’t say - did she kill those people or not?”

Lucifer regarded her for a long moment, before he again sipped at his drink. “How are you at technicalities, Detective?”

“Unfortunately, sometimes I just have to let them ruin my day.”

“Well then. Sororisel doesn’t kill, and she physically can’t. However, she can reap souls. It’s forbidden for her to do so, but she does have the capability.” He paused. “One of Father’s little jokes - one you should be familiar with. Give someone the ability to do something, and then make it a sin to do it. Cheers, Dad.” He sipped again. “A human - a female human - has taken one of her feathers. She’s using this to control my sister, and force her to reap souls. Specifically, the three we’re concerned with.”

“But if you ‘reap’ someone’s soul, what happens to their body on Earth?”

“It doesn’t survive,” he said, with measurable discomfort.

“So… they died as a result of what she did.”

“Yes and she’s very upset by the whole thing, believe me!” he said loudly. He looked at his wine hastily, keeping his eyes on it.

She waited until he had taken another drink, then sniffed. “I saw how upset she was, Lucifer. But if she was being controlled by someone, why didn’t she find help? And why did she call you ‘my Lord’?”

“You have to understand, Detective - there is no-one on this plane who _can_ help her. She didn’t know I was here, and she didn’t recognise me until that hallway. It’s not always easy realising the person who just passed you in the corridor full of humans was - one, other-worldly, and two, someone you know very well. We all look different up here - or in her case, _down_ here.” He paused to drain the glass of its wine. “This isn’t what I really look like, and she looks nothing like the form you saw today, trust me on _that_.” He huffed, his voice then going up a few notches on the angry meter. “Someone has trapped her in that form, and that _hurts_ \- it’s constant, searing pain like you can’t imagine. And they’re forcing her to reap souls against her will, against Father’s law, against everything. It has to stop. I’ll _make_ it stop.”

“You’re not going to take this into your own hands, Lucifer,” she said. “You can’t just find who this is and threaten them until they release whatever influence they have over her, and you can’t make a deal with them to let her go. That’s not how it works.”

He looked at her. “And when it was Trixie? When it was someone _you_ love, what did you do then, Detective? What lengths did you go to, in secret, to get her back, to keep her safe? And who helped you?” He plonked the wine glass on the table and got up. He walked around to the front door as she leapt up to stop him. “I thought we were friends. I thought you’d understand and you’d want to help me. But fine, leave it to me - I’ll do it myself. This I precisely why I fell in the first place; all I ever wanted was to do what I thought was _right_.” He opened the door and slammed it behind him.

Decker sank back into the sofa, looking at her wine glass. Suddenly it had lost its attraction. She set it on the table and folded her arms, thinking.

 

ooOoo

 

Lopez tapped at the keys, reading the screen and making notes. She looked up as someone crossed behind the monitor.

“‘Night, Lopez. Go home,” said the male voice.

“‘Night Santori. Say hi to your brother for me,” she grinned.

“That’d make his day,” was the response, and then the far door shut. She felt her smile fade as she pulled out a notebook, transferring the data she saw on the screen to scribbles between the lines. She fished out her cell phone and pressed in numbers. It rang and rang. Finally the line clicked. “Hey, it’s Lopez. —Maria.”

“Oh. Ah, hey Maria,” was Decker’s response. “What can I do for you?”

“That Tina Rachett that Patrick was talking about? She’s in the arrest database.”

“What for?”

“Soliciting,” Lopez said. “Get this - six years ago she was arrested for soliciting and convicted of that plus a few other things. She got six months but it was a felony, so ever since she’s found it real hard to get a proper job. From what I can tell, she’s been something of a socialite, living off boyfriends, girlfriends, or sugar daddies, since then.”

“Like Nathan King and Jamie Reyes? That explains a lot.”

“Yeah, and she was trying to start her own business in lingerie - with Grant Waterstone, her then-business partner. Only he pulled out for some reason and left her in more debt than she started, and with no way of getting herself out of it and trying again.”

“That’s a motive,” she said. “You think she’s unbalanced?”

“From what I’ve heard from Patrick and what I’ve read here, I’d say she’s on thin ice anyway, totally full of ‘life’s not fair’ because she was arrested once and never got over it.” She paused. “I’m telling you, she’s going to go after anyone who’s involved in anything bad in her life. Which is why I’m calling to warn you.”

“Warn me of what?”

“Well you get to guess who her arresting officer was.”

Decker groaned. “Oh no.”

“Yeah - it was you, Decker. So I’d say you’re on her list, too. You got your gun?”

Decker let things whizz through her brain. “Yeah, yeah I have. Look, my daughter’s at Dan Espinoza’s. Can you get a car over to his and make sure they’re ok - in secret?”

“I’ll get _two_ sent straight away - and two to your place.”

“No - wait,” she said quickly. “I have a better idea.”

 


	7. Hate the Sin, Not the Sinner

 

 

Lucifer traipsed down the stairs slowly, finding the club strangely silent. He flicked a look at his watch to realise the time of night, and then wandered toward a barstool. He reached over the bar as someone walked around the counter.

“Well you look like Hell,” Mazikeen said. “And not in a good way. What happened?” She watched as he poured himself a drink, but then took the bottle off him to put it down. She came round the counter and slid a hand to his shoulder. “Seriously, Lucifer - you feel different. What is it?”

He swallowed the entire shot and put the glass down quietly. “Sororisel,” he said, raising his eyes to hers.

“What? She’s here?” she gasped.

“She’s here. And she’s being controlled by… a _human_ ,” he spat. “They’ve trapped her in human form, they’ve made her reap souls and leave the dead bodies piled around like…”

Mazikeen gripped his shoulder, then slipped it under the jacket to dig her fingers into the shirt beneath and massage hard. “Then we find them. They don’t get to do this to your sister, Lucifer - to any of us.”

He looked at her. “She’s an angel on Dad’s team, Maze. Why do you care?”

“She’s one of us. These hairless apes, these tiresome mud-monkeys? They can kill and maim and hurt whoever they want - as long as it’s not one of us. We were here _first_ , Lucifer. We are better than them - we _know_ better than them. That’s why we have power up here, and they don’t.”

He studied her face for what turned into a full minute. “Maze,” he said quietly. “If you found this human… what would you do?”

“Punish them for daring to hurt one of us. Control them, like they’ve done to your sister. Make them feel the pain of being in a form that’s not theirs. Break their soul by making them do things they really feel they can’t do - to others. Watch as they break - and laugh.”

His eyes shone very red and very angry. “Right then. Let’s go find this human.”

Mazikeen grinned. “I live to serve you, my Lord.”

 

ooOoo

 

Decker picked up the phone and dialled quickly. “Hi Dan,” she said cheerfully. “Yeah, no, I’m just checking. You and Trixie doing ok over there? Good.” She paused to listen. “Uh-huh. Well don’t let her watch that bit then. You just skip the chapter on the blu ray, Dan, if I can do it, so can you.” She paced the room. “Ok. Listen, um, I was just calling to say I’m working late tonight, so if there’s any reason you think you’re popping over, please don’t.” She nodded. “Yeah, I get that. Yeah, I know, Dan. But seriously, I’m working and I don’t know if I’ll be in for much longer so please don’t come to the house. You can cope for one night without me or her toys, right?” She relaxed. “Good. Ok then. Yeah - after your shift tomorrow. Thanks. Bye. Say goodnight to Trixie for me.”

She cut the call and stared at the phone for a long moment. Then she turned it to silent and slipped it in her jeans pocket. Her hand went out and picked up her gun from the sofa. She checked it was loaded, went to the kitchen, took down a coffee mug, and went about the serious business of making a fresh pot.

 

ooOoo

 

Lopez snatched up all her things and stuffed them into her bag. She threw the strap over her shoulder, messenger style, and hastily checked her gun was loaded. She turned off her PC and headed round the desk to the door. Barreling out and to the corridor, she hurried down the hallway and into the lift. She pressed at the ground floor button and kept it in, holding it as the elevator rumbled all the way down to its destination.

The doors opened and she put a foot out - before she gasped and bounced back.

Lucifer took a step over the line, his hands going into the both doors to keep them open. “Hello Maria,” he said, with a voice like three fluid tonnes of honey. “I wonder if you wouldn’t mind giving me just a weeny bit of help.”

“Help with wh- what?” she managed.

“You can start by telling me where you’re off to in such a hurry. Found Tina, have we?”

She clamped her mouth shut, shaking her head.

He let go of the doors and walked into the lift. He clasped his hands behind him as the doors shut. “Oh come now,” he said with a smile a mile wide. “You _want_ to tell me, don’t you? After all, deep down, you think I’m helpful. And I am, Maria. I assure you, I want to help find this Tina. You do believe me, don’t you?”

She nodded.

“There, see? So tell me… what do you know about Tina Rachett that _I_ should know?”

Lopez opened her mouth. She closed it again, and then her eyes. Something made a noise in her throat, and she realised it was her. Her eyes opened.

He was still smiling. “My, my, you _are_ a complicated one. Oooh, I _like_ those,” he oiled, his shoulders twitching in amusement. “Very well then - a favour. You tell me everything you know about Tina, and in return, I will do you any - favour - you - desire.” His head tilted. “Hmm? You must have one, teeny tiny desire locked up in there somewhere? Something you want, something you’ve _always_ wanted, something that makes you want to burst with the need to—”

She leapt forward and kissed him. He did absolutely nothing to stop her, and in fact after a pause of roughly two and a half seconds, he retaliated. There was nothing but the sounds of enjoyment and stolen breaths for a whole minute - that turned into two.

Suddenly he pushed her back against the glass wall behind her. His hands at her wrists, over her head, made him lean on her in a way that caused her heart to leap into her mouth.

“Agreed,” he breathed, his eyes dancing from one of hers to the other. “Forgive me, but first I have to deal with Tina. Then, by all means, me and my penthouse are up for whatever you want to do to me, yourself, and anyone else you invite along. Deal?”

She felt parts of herself melting. She nodded. “I’ll - I’ll hold you to that,” she gasped.

The smutty chuckle that emanated from him sent heat through her. “Oh I certainly hope so.” He lifted his chin a little. “Tina?”

“Tina - Tina Rachett,” she gasped. “She’s killing people that dumped her or - or dumped her business venture.”

“Why would they do that?” he asked, confused.

“She was arrested like six years ago - never got over it. It’s always someone else’s fault; she just can’t let go. She talks about it and everyone gets tired of her attitude and it’s over,” she panted.

“Hmm. It can’t just be three people - she’s still enslaving my sister. Who’s next, Maria?”

She swallowed to try to lubricate her throat, to stall for time to get some air in her lungs. “The arresting officer who started it all,” she managed. “Detective Decker.”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. “You are a _life-saver_ ,” he rumbled. He kissed her until she felt her knees weaken. Then, just as suddenly, he was gone. She managed to make her eyes focus on the outside world again. The lift doors were closing around nothing, leaving something white to gently flutter to the floor. Gulping in air, she waved at her face, trying to get her head around the last few minutes. When it was obvious that she would never be able to come to terms with the pure passion and excitement that had just coursed through her like a Nascar on nitrous, she pushed herself up from the wall and attempted to pull her shirt straight.

Something white on the floor caught her eye. She crouched and picked it up.

It was a card, with only a name and a penthouse address embossed upon it. She grinned and pocketed the card.

And then she opened the doors and raced out toward the parking lot.

 

ooOoo

 

Decker paced the front room, her gun in the back of her jeans. She stared at the carpet, her hands rubbing together, her boots not making a noise.

Until the doorbell.

She jumped. Her right hand went behind her to check her gun was there - and then she walked toward the wooden safety barrier.

“Who is it?” she called, trying to sound casual. _Please be Lucifer, please be Lucifer, please be Lucifer_.

“It’s me,” said a woman’s voice. “Sororisel.”

Decker put her hand on the doorknob. “Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

She stood to the left of the door and opened it slowly, her gun in her hand behind her. Sororisel was standing on the step, her hands clasped in front of her, her eyes large and hopeful. “May I come in?”

Decker looked round behind the woman quickly, then stepped back. “Sure.”

Sororisel walked in, taking in everything around her. Decker checked the outside again before closing the door. She turned the lock, then spun to look at the shorter woman.

Sororisel turned to her. “Do you know why I am here?”

“Tina Rachett is controlling you,” she said, keeping her distance. “She’s sent you here to kill me, because I arrested her six years ago.”

Sororisel looked at the floor. “I cannot kill.”

“Right, right - your brother was here earlier, he was trying to tell me that,” she said, backing up slightly.

“He was here?”

“He’s my friend,” Decker said. “Well, he was before we argued this evening.”

Sororisel clasped her hands in front of her, coming closer. “But you must—”

“Stop right there, please,” Decker barked.

Sororisel paused. She looked at her feet, then paced backwards. “Sorry. You must make up with him, or he with you, before this night is done. _Please_.”

“Why?”

“Because one of you will die tonight, and you cannot die angry. It’s not right.”

“One of us?” Decker asked. “I thought it was me.”

“I cannot see that - I cannot see the future, for anyone,” she said. “But I know… my brother is a very angry angel. He has always had a quick temper, a need to punish people for their wrongdoings. It is why Father chose him to run Hell. Whether he is there or not, he is still the Lord of Hell - and we must obey him as such.”

“Riiiiight,” Decker said with obvious doubt. “But I thought Tina wanted _me_ dead.”

“She does not want you dead. She wants me to force you to acknowledge to her that you were wrong, and help her expunge her arrest record. If you do not, then… I will have to reap. She will compel me to.” She sighed.

Decker studied her uncomfortable face. “Lucifer was trying to say the same thing, I think. He’s really angry.”

Sororisel smiled suddenly, surprising Decker. “If I know my brother, he is attempting to find the human, to stop her controlling me. If he succeeds, then we all live. If he finds her when she still has my feather, she may try to use it on him.”

“Would one angel’s feather work on another angel?” Decker asked. “Wait - I can’t believe I just asked that.”

“Normally no, it would not.”

“But?” Decker prompted.

“But… my brother no longer has his wings - he has no feathers of his own. He may not realise that he is now susceptible to the feathers of others.”

“And you didn’t tell him this?” Decker spluttered. She fished in her pocket for her phone. “Wait - I don’t have his cell number - I don’t think _he_ has a cell number…” She looked at Sororisel. “Ok, so listen. One of us may die tonight. But we can’t die angry, right? I need to speak to Lucifer - I need to make things right.”

“Good,” Sororisel said, relaxing in relief. “This is good.”

“But I have no way to get to him,” Decker said. “Do you know where he is? Can you take me to him?”

“I think I know where he should be,” she nodded. “But… I cannot transport you, only other angels.”

“Of course,” Decker said, waving her hands out. “You know, it’s no wonder I don’t believe you.”

“You need evidence before you believe; it is not your fault, it is the kind of person you are.”

Decker blinked. “Uh, thanks.”

“But we must go. There are cars we can call to take us to his location.”

“Cabs - they’re called cabs. But I have my own car, Sororisel - let’s go.”

 

ooOoo

 

Lucifer walked up the path lit only by the streetlamps. He reached the main entrance door to the block of apartments and his hand hovered over the keypad for the security lock. He thought for a moment, then just turned to the iron gate over the door. He gripped one of the iron lattice shapes and simply heaved.

The gate was torn off its hinges. He turned delicately and laid it on the grass before going back to the door and opening it silently.

An equally soundless journey up the stairs saw him in front of a wooden door with 3C painted on it. He straightened his shoulders, cleared his throat, and jerked his jaw to the right just once, bringing his entire self into alignment.

He pressed the doorbell.

All was silent. He stepped to one side and turned to put his back against the wall next to the door. He reached across himself to press the doorbell again.

Abruptly the door opened. He reached in and grabbed.

A short gurgle told him he had the right part of the human body. He pushed himself off the wall and steered the human woman - by the throat - further into the apartment. His left foot went up behind him and paddled the door shut quietly.

“Now then. Tina, is it?” he asked. “Thought so - my man Patrick was ever so giving of your address. _So_ glad you two participated in that one night stand a few months back.”

The woman, long blonde hair and perfectly made-up face, stared at him, her eyes bulging. She grasped his wrist, tried to claw at his grip on her. He squeezed harder. She choked for air. He released his fingers just a crack.

“Let’s talk, shall we?” he said with a smile. “You’re going to give me the feather you took from my sister. And then I’m going to think very hard about what to do with you.”

“Sc- screw you,” she rasped.

“Well that’s _always_ on the table, my dear, but not for people like you,” he said with the utmost charm. “So where’s the feather, hmm?”

She hissed something, scrabbled at his hold on her.

“Oh, I see!” he said with a smile. “When I said my sister, you automatically thought I was another angel.”

She paused to glare at him.

“Well I was. Still am, really, in the same way that children who turn into adults are still people. Only I’m the one who _fell_.” He grinned at her, watching her face drain of its anger and instead start to show fear. “Yes, _that_ one who fell. So you see, giving me my sister’s feather back would be your best chance of… well, anything other than a drawn-out, excruciating death, really.”

She patted at his wrist. He widened his grip. “I know - I know - where is it,” she rasped.

“No, you must have it _on_ you, or you wouldn’t be able to summon her, or track where she is,” he snapped. “So _give_.”

She patted at his wrist again. He opened his fingers still further. She hauled in air. “Two pieces!”

“Oh well then,” he said. “Just hand over the one you’ve got on you, and then show me where the other one is. Very clever, by the way.”

She put her hand in her rear jeans pocket. It came out and she thrust it at him.

He wheezed as if he’d been struck. He collapsed backwards. She fell to the floor, coughing, but got up fast. He was still rolling to his hands and knees, trying to decide what millennium it was.

“Real angel’s feather, _asshole_ ,” Tina spat. “What, you thought you could just come in here and try to threaten me? Well you were _wrong_ \- I hold the power now, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“That is - actually - quite - unpleasant,” he managed, his face red, the veins around his temples starting to stand out. “How are you - doing - this?”

“I don’t even know - angels’ feathers are only supposed to work on the one angel. Maybe it’s because you’re the evil one, you piece of shit,” she snapped.

“Now I - _nngghh_ \- object to being called that by - by - you of all - of all people,” he grunted. Barely able to stay on his hands and knees, the pain in his head was starting to make him dizzy. “Especially when I - I - didn’t come - alone.”

“What?” She whipped around to check the door to the kitchen behind her, then the window far to her left. “You’re lying.”

“I - don’t - _lie_ ,” he grunted.

The front door opened just a shade. Something small and black flew through. It whizzed just past her arm and buried itself in the wall behind her. She shrieked and leapt back.

Mazikeen pushed open the door and waltzed in. “ _This_ is the woman causing you trouble?”

“No! You can’t be walking!” Tina shouted, raising the feather fragment at her.

“Not an angel, bitch,” Mazikeen grinned. “There’s nothing you can do to me.”

“But I can to _him_ ,” she spat. She lifted the fragment and pointed it at Lucifer. “You. Kill her.”

Lucifer got up abruptly. A knee tried to give but he put a palm against the wall to steady himself. “I’ll do no such thing,” he said roughly.

Tina backed up, waving the feather at them both. “I think you _will_.”

He turned to face Mazikeen. “Well this is awkward,” he said edgily.

“What are you doing?” she dared.

“No idea. I can’t stop it. Do me a favour, darling - knock me out.”

Mazikeen looked past him to Tina. His hands came up to reach for her. She elbowed him in the face. Her boot came up and hammered into his chest. He was thrown clear off his feet and back into the far wall. He slid down in a heap. Mazikeen advanced on Tina. She gripped her by the arm and grabbed at the feather.

But the holy item would not be moved. Mazikeen growled and wrenched.

Tina just laughed.

“You know, he wanted me to keep you alive so we could torture you,” Mazikeen growled through angry teeth. “But maybe I’ll just kill you while he can’t see me do it.”

“You still won’t get the feather!” Tina grinned.

“I’ll cut your hand off and take the feather with it.”

Tina stopped laughing. “You can’t.”

“Didn’t you know? Demons can do _anything_ ,” Mazikeen sneered in her face.

A rattle at the front door made them both look over. Tina shoved with all her strength and Mazikeen stumbled back. Tina ran off into the apartment as Mazikeen pulled a back-up knife and watched the door.

A gun came round it, then a head. “Police! Drop your weapons!”

Mazikeen let her knife hand drop. “Little late - as always!” She went straight to Lucifer and put her free hand to his fallen form. “Hey, come on, get up.” He made a noise.

The gun slid round the doorjamb, followed by Detective Lopez. “What happened?” she demanded, letting her gun fall to her side. “Is he alright?”

“He’ll be fine,” she snapped, slipping her knife back in its hiding place and slapping at his face. “Get that woman with the feather. She’s somewhere in the apartment.”

Lopez raised her gun again and edged round them. She went deeper into the flat as Mazikeen helped Lucifer back to his feet.

“You ok?” she asked, holding onto his shoulders.

He felt his jaw, worked it round in circles for a moment, and then nodded. “I think so. Thanks.”

“What did she _do_ to you?”

“I don’t know - seems like Sororisel’s feather works on me, too,” he said, his face one of horror. “How can that be?”

“You must be the only angel who doesn’t have your own any more,” she said gently. “Maybe that’s something to do with it.”

He stretched his shoulders out and put his hands on his hips. She took a step back. “Well whatever the cause, I know something she doesn’t know,” he said firmly.

“And what’s that?”

“Now I’m prepared for it, it’s not going to work a second time.”

She grinned. “You want to help Lopez grab her? I’ll find the half of the feather that’s in here.”

“Done,” he said. She went to turn but he caught her wrist. She paused to look back up at him. He tilted his head slightly. “ _Thank_ you, Maze.”

“Hey, all I want in return is a chance to torture her a little.”

He grinned and let her go. She went for the other side of the room, where she began picking up items and tipping them upside down in the hopes something would shake loose.

He turned to the door to the kitchen - in time for shots to be fired directly at his head. He ducked one but the other bounced off his shoulder as Tina went galloping past. Lopez burst through the doorway after her.

She screeched to a halt. “You ok?” she panted.

“You - stay here,” Lucifer barked. He turned and ran out of the front door. It slammed behind him.

Lopez frowned, looked at Mazikeen, and then went for the front door. But the demon slid up in front of it, barring her way. “Ah ah ah,” Mazikeen said. “He doesn’t want you to get hurt. You should _definitely_ stay here until he’s caught her.”

“He’ll need my help,” Lopez said, confused.

“I think… if he needs help, he’ll call us for it. But I’m pretty sure this is something he needs to do alone.”

 


	8. Sinner, Sinner, Chicken Dinner

 

 

Decker and Sororisel pulled up outside the apartment block. “And you’re sure he’ll go straight for her? Even though he thinks he’s at risk?” Decker asked.

“That’s my brother,” Sororisel said with just a hint of sadness.

“Can I ask… what’s it like?” Decker asked. “Having him for a brother, I mean. Did he like, pull your hair as a child, tease you, take your toys? Or did he share his building blocks and get angry when other kids took _your_ toys at school?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Sororisel said. “I have never been been a… ‘child’. Neither has he. We were created as we are now. However, right now we are not in our true forms. For me it is painful.”

“And him?” Decker asked.

“He does not say,” Sororisel said quietly. “Whatever discomfort it _does_ cause him… I think he considers it… a trade-off. He gets to stay here with a reasonable amount of discomfort. If he went home, he would be without that discomfort. But… he does not want to be there.”

Decker turned in the seat to look at her. “What do _you_ want for him?”

“I want him to be happy, and free. He was the first, the original - the _only_ one - who told our Father that what He was doing was not right. For that, Father made him the custodian of the gates, used his talents as the one who knows how to punish every wicked soul who goes down to Hell. But he is not wicked, Detective Decker, nor is he evil. He simply has a very refined sense of justice.”

“Justice,” she snorted. “Well I haven’t seen it.”

“Perhaps it just does not gel with _your_ version of justice. He is millennia old, and has seen all manner of evil that beings are capable of. That would change anyone, eventually.”

Decker tilted her head. “Ok, just between you and me - is he really Lucifer, like the actual Devil? Are you two really angels?”

Sororisel raised her eyebrows at her. “We do not lie, Detective Decker.”

“Riiight.” She put her hand to the door release. “Let’s go find him before he does something that doesn’t gel with my version of justice.”

 

ooOoo

 

Lucifer paced down the silent hallway until he turned a corner and had to stop. Large yellow warning signs, speaking of renovation work and painting, blocked his way. He ducked under the yellow tape that had been stretched across the thoroughfare and continued to walk, wondering at the plastic sheets that suddenly cut him off from the walls either side of him. His hand poked in the sheet to his left and divided it enough for his head to pop through. He breathed in the slightly unpleasant smell of a new coat of paint. Large tins of the stuff, and assorted brushes and rollers in trays, were dotted about against the presumably damp wall, ready for a morning that was scant few hours away. He pulled back again and carried on down the hallway, the plastic sheets accompanying him all the way down.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he called, sing-song.

Nothing answered him. He paused at a break in the sheeting to notice a door. It bounced slightly, as if a breeze were affecting the unlocked entrance. He stepped forward, his hand on the doorknob. He shouldered it open.

It slammed back into the wall behind. Nothing moved.

“If you hand over the feather I _promise_ I won’t be half as angry as if I have to hunt you down!” he called. “This hide and seek thing is really quite childish!”

A creak, a sound - he froze and waited. Then a smile crept over his face. He carried on down the corridor, making a beeline for a door that was open by barely a hair’s breadth. As he got closer it wavered.

He lifted a foot and booted it inwards.

The wood flew in and bounced off the wall inside without the usual noise. Nothing else moved.

Until a hand shot out from behind the door, the feather in it.

His eyes went bright red - and then he reached out and snatched at her wrist. She shrieked as she was yanked out from behind the door. The next second his free hand was around her throat.

“Nice try,” he growled. “Relinquish the feather.”

“Never! It’s mine!” she shouted. “I’ve waited _all my life_ for this kind of power!”

“You want power?” He hauled her face close to his. “I’ll show you _power!_ ”

His eyes blazed. His face changed.

Tina screamed.

 

ooOoo

 

Sororisel froze as Decker was inspecting the grate on the grass. “Looks like the hinges have just… twisted, given way,” she mused. “Maybe it was old.”

“Detective,” Sororisel said.

She looked up. “Yeah, sorry. Let’s get inside.”

“No, I… I think…” She blinked. “I’m sorry. You should run. Don’t let me catch you.”

“What?” Decker asked. She got to her feet. “What are you talking about?”

“The feather - it’s somewhere nearby. Suddenly it’s very… powerful. It’s making me…” Her hand twitched, her feet started to walk toward Decker. “Please - stop me. Or hide. I cannot control what the feather is doing to me when it’s this close!”

Decker stumbled back. “Ok - just stay calm!” She turned and ran.

“Stop me!” Sororisel shouted. “Don’t let me harm anyone else!”

“How about I get you your feather back?” Decker called, already inside the door.

“Make it quick!”

 

ooOoo

 

Lopez tipped up the book, leafing through. “It’s nowhere in here,” she sighed. “She could have hidden it _anywhere_.”

_“Not_ anywhere,” Mazikeen said. “She needs somewhere that would mask its light and its aura.”

“Right - are we still talking about a feather?”

“It needs to be a metal box, like something heavy.”

Lopez went to the mantelpiece and began looking through the trinket boxes. “Like these?”

“Yeah - open them all up - try everything,” she said quickly.

The sound of boots outside the door made Mazikeen draw a knife in readiness.

But it was Decker who threw the door open and skidded into the room. “Oh - hey guys,” she panted. “Where’s Lucifer? Did you find the feather?”

“We’re searching for it now,” Mazikeen said, hiding her knife once more. “Help us.”

“Tina was here,” Lopez said, picking up another box. “She attacked pretty much everyone - then she made a run for it.”

“What? Well then let’s find her!” Decker blurted.

“Wait!” Mazikeen called. “She broke a fragment off the feather - she’s got one, and the other one is somewhere in this apartment.”

“Who would be the best person to find it?” Decker said. She edged to the open door, looking back down the stairs cautiously.

“Well an angel would be real handy right about now,” Mazikeen snapped. “But he’s running around the building after Tina.”

“Then I have some good news and some bad news,” Decker said, backing away from the front door.

“What’s that?” Lopez asked, noticing her retreat.

“Well the good news is, there’s another angel on her way up here, and everyone says the feather is hers.”

“And the bad news?” Lopez asked quickly.

“She’s trying to kill me, and even if she does put that on hold long enough to find the feather in this apartment first, there’s still the other fragment out there commanding her to kill me,” Decker said.

Mazikeen drew two knives. “Get behind me.”

“But it’s Lucifer’s _sister_ ,” Decker said.

Mazikeen’s knives dropped slightly. Then she squared her shoulders and stood tall. “Then I’ll just wing her.” She paused. “If you’ll pardon the pun.”

 

ooOoo

 

Tina clawed and scratched at Lucifer’s wrist. He raised her until her feet were off the floor. She kicked and protested, but he held her tight.

“Look at me!” he seethed.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

“I said _look at me!_ ”

She gasped in air. Her eyes sprang open. She found what looked like a normal man glaring back at her - except for the red eyes. “Pl-please,” she whispered.

His face twisted in disgust, his eyes widening as if trying to take it all in. “Mercy comes from acknowledgement of wrong-doing, from remorse, from a need to make restitution - not from a cowardly attempt to prolong your pathetic existence!”

“Please!”

“You’re going to tell me how you knew all about angels and how to compel one to do your bidding. And believe me, I want you to resist. It’ll be so much more _satisfying_ if I have to torture it out of you!”

She struggled and tried to dig her fingers into his hand. To no avail.

His eyes flamed. His grip tightened. “Start at the beginning.”

“Sc-screw you,” she choked.

He chuckled. It was not a nice sound. Right before her eyes, bright red, shiny flames swept over his entire head. They began to stretch down his neck to slip under his shirt - and then out from under his sleeve cuff to spread to his hand round her neck.

She began to scream.

She did not stop.

ooOoo

 

Sororisel came around the door to the apartment. She looked at the three people watching her with similar expressions of fear. “You must leave,” she urged at Decker. “Run - do not let me catch you!”

Mazikeen stepped into their line of sight. “Hey. You’re Lucifer’s sister, right?”

“And you must be Mazikeen,” she said. “Lucifer speaks highly of you.”

“He does?” she asked, momentarily non-plussed.

“He says you are the most loyal, the most trusted,” Sororisel said. “For this reason, you must let me pass. I do not want to hurt you, Mazikeen.”

The demon lowered her blades a tad. “And I don’t want to hurt you - Lucifer would flay me as I stand.”

“Again?” Sororisel asked.

“The first time was foreplay,” she grinned.

Sororisel blushed.

“Yeah, you’re an angel alright,” Decker muttered. “Look - your feather is somewhere in this apartment, Sororisel. You find it, you break the compulsion to kill me, right?”

Sororisel spun quickly. Her hands went out as if to sense everything around her. “I feel it!” She began to walk toward the windows.

Decker grabbed Lopez by the elbow and started the sneak to first base - the open door. Mazikeen noticed and stepped round to her right, keeping the two humans behind her.

Sororisel lifted a chair as if it weighed nothing, a stack of books were thrown to one side - she unearthed a metal box the size of a pair of shoes. “It is here!” She ripped open the box and inside was a stunted, flowing feather. She breathed out in relief and snatched it from the bed of tissue paper. She held it very tightly - and it started to pulse.

Mazikeen looked over her shoulder at Decker. She gestured to the door with her chin.

Decker did not need telling twice. She grabbed Lopez and simply turned and ran.

Sororisel watched the feather pulse brighter and brighter. It shimmered and vibrated with raw power. Suddenly it vanished into thin air.

The room was silent.

Mazikeen took a step back. She positioned herself in front of the door. “Is that it?” she asked.

Sororisel rose. She turned to appraise the demon. “I am nearly whole,” he said. “But there is one more piece I need. _After_ I kill Decker.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Mazikeen said. “She’s kind of Lucifer’s friend.”

“I am sorry. Please let me pass.”

“Uh… no,” Mazikeen said.

“ _Please.”_

“Uh… _really_ no.”

Sororisel drew herself up, her wings spreading just enough to fill the room.

Mazikeen swallowed. “I think I’ve actually missed that,” she said. Then she lifted her knives. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

Sororisel lunged forward, her face as stone, her nails bared.

 

ooOoo

 

Decker ran down the hallway, Lopez steaming down after her. “Where are we heading?” Lopez cried. “The stairs to the exit are behind us!”

“We’re not taking the exit!” Decker called. “We’re looking for Lucifer!”

“Why?”

“Because he either has the feather or he’s with the _woman_ who has the feather! Either way when Sororisel gets past Mazikeen and comes after me, she’ll find her other feather too!” She panted as she turned the corner. “I’m hoping she’ll take it over me!”

“I have no idea what’s going on!” Lopez shouted angrily.

Decker slid to a sudden stop. She panted some breath back, but was looking around in concern.

“What now?” Lopez gasped.

“Can you smell that? It’s like… something burning.”

“Burning?” Lopez turned in a circle. “You think something’s really on fire?”

“There are still residents in this block. Find an alarm. Do it now,” Decker blurted. She turned and ran off.

Lopez started after her. Her attention was arrested by a red fire alarm on the wall. She cursed and stopped. Shaking her head at the day so far, she jabbed her thumb into the glass of the alarm. It cracked in half and allowed her thumb to hammer into the button beneath.

At once a shrill bleeping made her put her hands over her ears.

Then came the sprinklers. And as she stood in the hallway, feeling the cold water smack down into her head and jacket, she heaved a sigh.

“I think I’ll transfer,” she said to herself. “Away from Homicide. To something calmer, more relaxing - like lion-taming.”

 

ooOoo

 

Sororisel threw Mazikeen across the room. The demon bounced and rolled. She thrust her knives into their hidden pockets as she blocked the front door.

“Stop!” she called.

Sororisel reached for her. “I’m sorry! I cannot!” She gripped the demon’s arm.

Mazikeen spun and twisted; Sororisel went over into the carpet. Mazikeen pinned her down with a knee in her collarbone, her hands keeping a good hold on her wrist.

But the angel simply slithered her arm around at an impossible angle and slipped her grasp. As Mazikeen thought about what to grab next, Sororisel’s other hand came up and hammered into her chest.

She was thrown clear across the room. She fought to get up. Sororisel was already on her feet and tearing out of the door.

Mazikeen roared in anger as the fire alarm suddenly began to scream. She pelted out of the door after her.

 

ooOoo

 

Decker turned a corner and found nothing but heat and smoke. She whipped her jacket over her nose and mouth as she backed up again. Getting on her hands and knees, she began to crawl around the corner. “Lucifer!” she shouted. “Where are you!”

“You shouldn’t be here, Detective!” was his answer from somewhere in the smoke.

“Follow my voice - we have to get out of here!”

Two black shoes emerged from the smoke and stopped right in front of her hands. She looked up. “Oh for—. Are you ok?” she demanded.

“Perfectly fine, I assure you,” he said, everything above his knees obscured by the danger. Then he coughed.

She sprang to her feet and grabbed his arm. “This way - come on.”

The water rained down on them as they hurried back down the corridor. People were coming out of doors, asking questions, getting turned around and disorientated. One head stopped, clawed their way out of the throng of people, to turn and wave up to her. “Decker!” Lopez called.

“Keep moving!” Decker shouted. She looked around at all the residents who had paused. “LAPD! Keep moving to the stairs!”

“Detective.” Lucifer pulled her to a stop. “Where’s my sister?”

“Oh she’ll find me soon enough, don’t worry!”

They bundled down the hallway with the residents, filing down two large staircases until they were in the lobby at the bottom. By the time they were out through the large doors a fire truck was circling the parking lot looking for a spot to install itself.

“Well this is all very exciting, isn’t it?” Lucifer said brightly. He paused, his smile fading. “ _Sororisel!_ ” he shouted.

Decker jumped and slapped her hands over her ears, even as she realised his voice had not been heard but _felt_. She had a moment to look up, and saw the other angel striding toward her, one hand outstretched.

Lucifer stepped into Sororisel’s path and gripped her wrist. “Sister,” he grinned. “I think _this_ is what you’re after.” He stuffed something into her captured hand. Her hand tightened on it almost involuntarily.

“My feather…” She pulled free with a gentleness Decker had not expected. The three of them watched in awe as the feather fragment burned brightly, going through red, then orange, then yellow and finally white. Abruptly it disappeared.

Sororisel shrugged her shoulders and stretched her head back on her neck to look straight up. She took a deep breath, making it rush out of her with finality as her shoulders relaxed again. Tension literally fled her frame; her arms calmed, her face smoothed out, and something of a subtle light came to her face.

“Well?” Lucifer asked. He peered at her face, his hands in his pockets. “Are we all present and correct again?”

“I am whole again,” she grinned. She laughed and clapped her hands together, squeezing. She turned and grabbed Decker, wrapping her arms around her in a bear hug.

Decker gurgled some kind of word as she patted the angel’s back lamely. Sororisel let her go. “I am so sorry,” she said hastily. “For all of this.” Then she turned and looked at Lucifer’s eager face. “My Lord.”

“Oh come here,” he chuckled. He threw his arms out and she ran into him, getting a big hug and a twirl for her efforts before he let her down. “All better?”

“All better,” she grinned.

Decker stared, unable to stop a creeping feeling of… joy, of the satisfaction of everything being where it should be. It took her a moment to wonder if they were in fact her own feelings or someone else’s. She shook her head. “You know, there’s still the matter of someone having killed those three people,” she said. “And Tina Rachett - where is she? Lucifer - you saw her last. What happened to her?”

“Do you really want me to try to explain?” he asked, tucking Sororisel under his arm. She gratefully put a hand round his back as she squeezed closer to him. He raised his eyebrows at Decker. “Or do you want to go ask the lovely fire chaps? By the way, the one taking off his helmet and walking this way? He fancies you.”

Decker frantically tucked hair behind her ears. “Yeah, well - you know I’m still a police officer and - you know—”

“Oh of course,” he said innocently.

“And where’s Mazikeen?” she asked quickly in fright. “She could be trapped or hurt in the fire!”

Lucifer and Sororisel looked at each other. And then they burst into laughter.

Decker stepped back and turned away, finding a fire officer approaching her, slowly pulling his helmet off. “Hey. You a cop too?” he asked.

“Yeah - Detective Decker,” she said. “We were chasing a suspect inside the building, and…” She paused as she heard Lucifer and Sororisel’s hysterical laughter echoing from behind her.

“Mazikeen hurt in a fire!” Lucifer shrieked, clearly overcome with the need to express just how funny humans were.

Decker shrugged into her jacket. “Anyway, yeah… a suspect. A woman, about forty maybe, taller than me, long hair?”

The fire officer shrugged. “Well we got a casualty we need someone to ID. Looks like they were trapped in the fire somewhere - horrific burns,” he said. “Weird - you’d need a blaze much hotter than we got here to cause wounds like that. Especially around the neck.”

Decker gestured behind him. “Can I see?”

“Yeah sure - your colleague is already at the ambulance - a Detective Lopez? She had a bit of smoke inhalation so we’re assessing how bad it is. She told me to come find you.”

“Thanks,” she said, following the officer away from the continuing sound of raucous laughter. “Let’s try and get this wrapped up, shall we?”

 


	9. Let She Who is Without Sin

 

 

Decker went straight to the ambulance to find Lopez sitting on the open tail of the vehicle. She was holding a breathing mask to her face and a blanket round her shoulders.

“Hey,” Decker said. “You good?”

Lopez pulled the mask down. “Yeah - they reckon a few days should see me back at work. You?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “Any idea what happened?”

“The fire chief - he suspects the paint went up. The workers should _not_ have left flammable stock like that all throughout the hallway.” She paused to breathe in through the mask again, then move it down. “But he can’t figure out what set it alight; there’s nothing up there that would just cause it to combust suddenly.”

“Hmm.” Decker turned and looked behind her, to see Lucifer throwing an arm round Sororisel and leading her away. She looked back at Lopez. “And how did Lucifer find out where Tina lived?”

Lopez breathed deeply for a moment. Then she shook her head. “I won’t lie. I told him what I told you on the phone. I guess he found her address from his bartender, or Patrick, maybe.” Her eyes locked on Decker’s. “I couldn’t help it - I swear to God, Decker, he just started talking and then he was looking at me like I was the only thing in Creation that mattered and I just…” She heaved a sigh. “Can I tell you something personal?”

Decker looked at her feet. “Only if you feel you want to.”

Lopez smiled slightly. “All my life… there’s been this feeling that no-one really listens to me, you know? My dad, my mom, my brother… They don’t understand why I want to be a cop - never did. They just don’t listen, don’t value my contributions. And then there’s everyone else. It’s better than it was, but… sometimes I get ‘explained at’ because I’m not a dude, you know?” She bit her lip. “When Lucifer looked at me like that in the elevator… He _did_. It was all about _me_ \- _I_ was the important one, _I_ was the one _he_ was going to listen to as if no-one else in the world could ever matter more.” She shook her head, looking down. “And that I think is the real reason I told him what he _asked_ me for.” She paused. “It’s my fault. This fire, Tina being the suspected corpse on its way to the morgue. It’s all my fault because of one moment of weakness.”

Decker let out a long breath. She sat on the tail of the vehicle next to her. “Can I tell _you_ something personal?”

“Sure,” she said, shrugging as if she really didn’t care any more.

“I don’t… I don’t get it. This whole Lucifer-being-able-to-hypnotise-people thing. It doesn’t work on me and I don’t get how it works on anyone else.” She paused as Lopez turned to her. Decker put her hand up quickly. “But… I _do_ get how… Lucifer can be the most self-absorbed, self-directed person on the face of the Earth, and believe me, he is a completely selfish ass a lot of the time. Which is why… when he _does_ pay attention to you, it’s… concentrated. It’s like thousands of years of his one-off good moments condensed into a single glance or one whole minute of the world’s most generous attention - and it’s all directed at you.” She shook her head with a smile. “It’s a powerful thing, and that I _do_ get.”

“Wow,” Lopez mused. “So tell me - you and him. You ever hooked up?”

“Me? And him?” Decker scoffed. “No. And we never will, either.”

“Still got a thing for Dan?”

Decker sighed, long and hard. “I don’t want to think about that right now.” It was quiet for a long moment as they surveyed the hubbub of people walking around them. “I guess I should go do some paperwork,” Decker sighed. She got up.

“I’ll come with you.”

“You get cleared for duty, first,” Decker smiled. “The department can manage without you for a while.”

“Yes sir,” Lopez smiled.

 

ooOoo

 

“The look on her face though,” Lucifer gushed, holding his glass out.

Mazikeen leant forward from her perch on the arm of the couch, filling the glass again from the weighty bottle of bourbon in her hand. “Like she realised who you were?” she said, her eyes positively glowing with enjoyment.

“More than that,” Lucifer grinned. “It was that moment when she suddenly and totally comprehended the unending torture she’d set herself up for.” His eyes were bright with excitement. “She was all bluster, so sure of herself and the fact that the feather was supposed to magically protect her and harm me. When I showed her it did no such thing - and that I was so much more powerful than her it wasn’t even funny - that’s when she got the look on her face.”

“But what was it like?” Mazikeen urged, her hand going to his shoulder.

He turned to face her. She hovered closer to make sure she took in every bit of malicious enjoyment from his eyes. “Oh Maze,” he oiled. She hissed and gripped his shoulder. His grin turned positively wicked. “It was _delicious_ \- I’ve never seen so much _horror_ for someone’s fate. Absolutely _glorious_ \- in a Dad kind of way.”

She slithered down to share his chair, turning all her weight on one leg, throwing her right knee over his to bring their faces close. “I’ve missed this you, Lucifer. We should punish people more often. Together. Like the good old days.”

“Mmm,” he rumbled.

She took his glass off him and sipped it. “I wish I’d been there.”

“ _I_ wish you’d been there,” he said, taking the glass back. “It was… She was _so_ evil, she _so_ deserved it, Maze. I’ve never enjoyed punishing someone so much.”

“And then you set fire to her flesh,” she oozed.

“Actually, no,” he said, surprised. “I mean, I wanted to. But it was _biblical_ , darling. The weight of her sins, her sudden and soul-destroying realisation of what she’d done and how it was going to torture her for eternity… it all just kind of bubbled up out of her - as fire.”

“What?” Mazikeen whispered in excitement.

“I _know_ , right?” he grinned. “I told you - glorious. A good old-fashioned engulfed-by-guilt flame. Lovely.”

“One thing bothers me - how did she even know about angels and feathers?” she asked. “If she can do it, maybe other humans can too.”

“Ah yes,” he said. “Well she wasn’t very eloquent on that point, what with me piling guilt on her soul, but it seems as though she didn’t even know what she had when she accidentally snagged one of Sororisel’s feathers. My sister was in the hospital, doing her job. This ballsy human encounters her right as Sororisel’s presiding over that woman and her boy - and manages to walk away with a feather on her person. She then spent the best part of three days working out what it was. Can you believe she used something called a ‘googal’ to tell her how to speak the right words to use it as an instrument of control?”

“Humans,” Mazikeen tutted. “She realised what she had and used it to take revenge.”

“Precisely. Only she had no idea that Sororisel’s family would turn up and take it back off her.” He studied her far-away expression for a moment. “You know, you’re the only one who enjoys this as much as I do. You’re the only one I can really talk to about it - share it with.”

“Always,” she grinned.

He raised a suggestive eyebrow. “Mmm.”

“Excuse me,” came a voice.

Mazikeen leant backwards over the arm to look toward the elevator to his penthouse. “Sororisel!” she said, surprised. She scrambled up off his lap as he got up hurriedly.

“Sister! What brings you here?” he asked, his arms out wide.

She smiled as she wandered over from the elevator. “I checked on Martin and his mother, Fran. They properly said goodbye to Beth; she passed this morning, in complete peace. My original reason for being here is concluded.” She waved her hands out. “I came to say goodbye, Brother. And to pay my respects to Mazikeen, of course.” She inclined her head.

Mazikeen blinked. “To me? I tried to wound you.”

Lucifer turned an abruptly disgruntled face on her, but Sororisel put a hand up. “She was stalling me, Brother. She successfully slowed me enough to allow you to retrieve that which was mine.”

“Oh,” he realised. “I see.” He pulled his jacket straight, buttoning it up. “So… all done, are we?”

“We are,” she nodded. She came closer, putting her hands out. He took hold of them and squeezed. “Thank you, my Lord,” she said.

“Ah ah ah,” he smiled.

“Lucifer,” she nodded. He put his arms round her and she hugged him hard for a long moment. Then she held him back to look up at him. “I have heard that repentance can get you all kinds of favours,” she dared.

“What kind of favours?” he said.

“The… replacement of… wings,” she said quietly.

His smile faded. “You overstep your boundaries, Sororisel.”

“Yes, my Lord,” she managed, her head dipping.

“Oh I don’t know,” Mazikeen said. “She’s talked people into things, she’s got away with doing something she wasn’t supposed to… she’s a lot like you - _my Lord_ ,” she grinned.

“Any time you want another flaying, let me know,” he said, way too politely.

She grinned. “Ooh,” she teased.

Sororisel stepped back. “I shall take my leave now, Brother, Mazikeen. Thank you.”

Lucifer looked at her. “Not tempted to stay?”

“Temptation is your purview, I think,” she smiled. “Until we meet again.”

He lifted a hand from his pocket to wave it once. She nodded and spread her wings - and she was gone.

Mazikeen looked over at him, studying his downcast eyes, his disappointed face. She swayed over and handed him the glass. “She’s going home,” she said. “Be happy for her.”

“Why would I be happy that she’s going back to that brain-washing sheep factory?” he tutted. He took a big swig of the bourbon.

“Because she’s getting what she wants,” she said.

His eyes flicked to hers. “I suppose so.”

“You know I love it when you lose your temper,” she said. “But… why? Are you getting sentimental over your sister?”

He frowned at her, but she noticed his eyes were just slightly glazed as thoughts chased themselves through his head. Finally it canted to one side and a smile pulled at the side of his mouth. “I think it was because of Sororisel, and you, and Detective Decker. You three are all I have, Maze. Someone threatened all of you in some way or other.” He sipped his drink. “I’m not sure if that’s sentimental or territorial.”

She grinned. “I like ‘territorial’ better.”

“Then let’s go with that.”

 

ooOoo

 

Decker got out of her car, walking down the alley toward the side entrance to Lux. She paused as she felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck.

“Detective.”

She turned and found Sororisel behind her. “Hi.” She looked up and down the alley. “Where did you come from?”

“Heaven,” Sororisel shrugged.

“Right.” She put her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “So… what can I do for you?”

“Your life is not in any danger,” Sororisel said. “But I must urge you… You must make peace with my brother. It is not good for you to let it fester.”

“Let what fester?” she asked.

“You must work that out for yourself.” She paused. “But something is unfinished between you. It is not right - you must settle this.”

“Well if I can work out what it is, I’ll get right on it,” Decker shrugged.

“That’s all I ask. I also wish to thank you. You risked your own life to help me get back a part of myself. That is a very noble, very kind thing for you to do, and it has not gone unnoticed.”

“Uh… ok,” Decker said. “Thanks. I think.”

“Thank you. Please, look after my brother. He thinks he doesn’t need anyone, but he could not be more wrong.”

“You’ve got that right,” she smiled.

“Well. I must return home.”

“Ok.” Decker turned to the door. “Do you need a lift any—” A sudden gust of wind stopped her mid-sentence. She put a hand up to keep her hair from poking her in the eyes. When she turned, the alley was empty. “Sororisel? Where’d you go?”

Garbage settled, things relaxed, and Decker realised she was completely alone. She frowned, let possible reasons and counter-arguments battle it out in her head for a moment, and then she turned to the door and swept everything aside to simply walk in and find her way to the bar.

It was empty. She turned and looked around at the absolute silence that greeted her. A quick look over at the counter top told her that not even Mazikeen was in her usual arena.

She went straight to the lift and pressed the button. She waited and eventually it arrived, and she looked up at the camera to wave. She had every intention of making it sarcastic, but something about her day so far made it cheerful. Forcing her hand to drop, she got into the elevator and pressed the P for the penthouse floor. Then she shook her head to clear it.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened to reveal Lucifer already pouring a drink. Mazikeen favoured Decker with a smile before passing her on her way to the lift. She winked at her and then the doors shut, taking the demon back down to the bar.

Decker looked over at Lucifer. “You left the crime scene,” she said.

“Well spotted. And for your next trick?” he teased.

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re in a very good mood.”

“That I am,” he grinned, carrying the glass over and presenting it to her. She took it but then just looked at it. “Oh come on, Detective,” he said, going back for his own drink. “The case solved, further deaths prevented - your own included - and my sister saved and back home. Job well done all round, I’d say.” He tipped up the glass and emptied it.

She wandered over to the sofa, passing it to instead seat herself in the armchair. She smelled the rim of her glass. “Yeah.”

“Well be happy, then,” he said. He flumped into the couch just a few feet from her chair arm. “Why aren’t you happy?”

She glanced at him, then sipped her drink. “The corpse was autopsied.”

“Isn’t that what normally happens?”

“It was Tina Rachett - died from third degree burns.”

“Ouch. Sounds devilishly painful,” he grinned.

“Lucifer - that woman is dead,” she said firmly. “Did you have anything to do with it?”

“Detective - that woman killed three other people,” he said, all humour leaving him. “ _And_ she threatened your life. What would have happened to your precious spawn if she’d succeeded?”

Decker leant her head back against the plush chair. “That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?”

Her eyes closed. “Just give me a straight answer. Did you kill her?”

He reached out for the bottle on the glass coffee table. “No.”

“Promise?” she whispered.

He paused in the act of tipping the bottle to pour himself another drink. “Pardon?”

She opened her eyes and looked at him. “I want you to be innocent, Lucifer, but if you killed her, so help me I have to arrest you.”

His eyes went back to the glass. He watched the bottle tip more and the bourbon flow into it. “I did not kill her.”

“Ok then.” She took a deep breath. “I had to ask. You must know how it looked.”

“It looked like I ran after her, after she got away from me and Maze - and your Detective Lopez,” he said evenly. “She _was_ an unstable homicidal manipulator - with delusions of power.”

“Delusions of power?”

“She thought she could control me with a feather!” he grinned. “I mean, really. A _feather_.”

She smiled, then let out a little chuckle. “Yeah. I guess that was pretty delusional.”

“It wasn’t even mine,” he went on, then took a sip of his drink.

Decker sighed. “And there you go again.”

“What?” he asked innocently.

She smiled. “Look, I have to write up a report on what happened, and I don’t even know what went down.”

“Because I asked you for help and you declined?” he asked, somewhat stiffly. “Forget it. I’m trying to.”

She frowned. “No - wait,” she said. She sat forwards on the chair. “That’s what Sororisel meant.”

“What?”

“I saw your sister. She said she was just leaving, but I had to…” She looked at the glass in her hand. “Look, Lucifer… You came and asked me for help. And I didn’t help you.” She swallowed. “I’m sorry. The truth is… you _did_ try to help me when Malcolm had Trixie, you _didn’t_ leave me alone when I needed someone, and… and I just…” She sipped her drink. “I’m sorry that I didn’t try to help you sooner. You’re my friend, and… I should have listened.” She looked up at him.

He was watching her, his head tilted to one side, his eyes narrowed, his mouth slightly open, looking for all the world as if he was trying to figure her out.

“What?” she asked, beginning to smile.

“Nothing, I just…” He took a drink. “Well.” He turned to her again. “To friends.” He held his glass out.

She smiled and touched hers to his, before they both took a drink. “Your sister’s nice,” she commented.

“Angel,” he said deliberately. He settled back into the sofa.

“Right, well…” She sat forwards again. “So Lopez told you where to find Tina Rachett, and you went after her. To help your sister.”

“And to stop her from killing you. You’re welcome,” he smiled.

“Thanks. But… what was it all about? I mean, Tina wanted to kill four people who she thought had treated her badly in her life. What did a feather have to do with it? How was she really influencing your sister?”

Lucifer’s face turned puzzled. “Well with her feather, of course,” he said. “We’ve been over this, Detective. You saw how Sororisel acted when she was close to it. Maze said you used her to find one half of the feather when she came to kill you. Very clever.”

“Yes but… why did she suddenly just… stop?”

“Well because I gave her the last bit of the missing feather back,” Lucifer marvelled. “What else is there to explain?”

“How did she even get this feather?” Decker asked. “Why did she think it would control Sororisel?”

“Are you tired?” he asked irritably. “Do you need sugar? Caffeine? What?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well she thought it would control Sororisel because it was _her_ feather. Honestly, we’ve been over this.” He sipped his drink. “She thought it would work on me - and it did the first time. Once I saw it for what it really was, I cast it off pretty much like I did Dad and that was it; it had no power over me.”

Decker stared for a moment. “And… how did the apartment block come to burst into flames? The paint would have needed a spark, or some naked flame - a _lot_ of naked flame - to burn like that.”

“I’m not a fire officer,” he shrugged. “But she was pretty mad - at everyone. She caused the paint to burn and it all went up - bye-bye apartment block.”

She ‘hmmed’. “I still don’t know how I write up that she was to blame for the block going up like that.”

“She definitely started it.”

“And you didn’t do anything to stop it?”

“There was nothing I _could_ do,” he said, surprised. “By the time I realised it was all going up, I was nowhere near a fire extinguisher thingy. I’ve never even used one.”

A quiet buzz made him look over at the lift. He got up and pressed at a button, coming back and sitting down.

“Who’s that?” Decker asked.

“Oh, Maria, I expect.”

“Detective Lopez? Is she writing a report too?” she asked. She got to her feet, drained her glass, and took it over to the bar.

“Nothing of the sort, I hope,” he said. He finished his drink and carried the empty to the bar next to her. While she stood back, he refilled his. “We made a deal.”

“You and deals,” she said. “What was it this time? You know you can’t ask her to compromise any case she’s working on - or _has_ worked on.”

“It’s nothing like that,” he said. The elevator doors opened and Lopez stepped out, rather uncertainly. “Ah! Maria!” he grinned.

She looked over. “Hi,” she managed, somewhat shyly. Her eyes went to Decker. “Uh…”

“Oh I’m just leaving, believe me,” she said quickly. She went round Lopez to the doors, pressing the button.

“You’re welcome to stay if you like,” Lucifer said.

“Absolutely not,” she said, with a wide, friendly smile. “I’m sure I’ll see you soon enough anyway. Lopez,” she nodded, before the doors opened and she stepped into the lift.

“ ’Night Detective,” Lopez said.

The door shut and the lift went down.

Lucifer leant his elbow on the bar, his drink in his other hand. “So. What can I offer you?”

She walked over slowly. “Look… I didn’t come here for sex.”

His face fell. “Oh. Poo.” He regrouped. “Whyever not?”

“I came here because… Well because I wanted to thank you for… making me realise a few things. About me.” She shrugged. “I just… You’re different, Lucifer, and it makes me question things.”

His eyes lit up. “Good,” he breathed. “Go on.”

“And… well… Things are different now. I don’t think I can just blindly listen to people and do what they want. Not… now. I’ve seen things, and heard things, and… it’s just not the same any more. So… there it is. And I don’t need to sleep with you because of some silly bargain we made in an elevator.”

He pointed a finger at her face, making her look at him in surprise. “You’re right. You need to sleep with me just to celebrate.”

She smiled. “That’s not what I—”

“Oh come now, Maria - you’ve made a breakthrough, as a friend of mine would say. That deserves a celebration, doesn’t it? And I have one of L.A.’s best stocked bars, upstairs and downstairs, and the entire night to spend just on you. So what’ll it be? A few karma sutra positions and then ridiculously loud music and your favourite shots? Or cheeky sex on the balcony and then the hot tub? Or cheeky karma sutra sex _in_ the hot tub? The choice is yours and the night is long,” he finished, waving his glass in the air.

“See - there you go again,” she smiled. “Like I’m the only important person in the world.”

“But you _are_ , my dear - and don’t let anyone tell you different. Everyone is, and the sooner they stop thinking of themselves as minions doing exactly as my Father intends instead of seizing what they could _really_ accomplish with their lives, the better.”

She threw her hands out in surrender. “Then… screw it. Shots first. Then every karma sutra position you know.”

“Oooh,” he teased, one eyebrow raised. “That may take some time.”

“Well hey, I’ve been signed off work for four days after that fire.”

“Ding _dong_ ,” he grinned, reaching for a fresh glass and a large bottle. “Here’s to four-day holidays.”

 

 

**FIN**

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Heav'n has no rage like love to hatred turn'd / Nor Hell a fury, like a woman scorn'd." - The Mourning Bride by William Congreve
> 
>  
> 
> Well that was a blast to write - Tom Ellis makes things very easy, doesn’t he? Thanks for all your comments and kudos - considering I’ve been trying to get original fiction published for the past 2 years with no success, your traffic and attention really means a lot to me. Thank you, you reading readers who read!


End file.
